


Kingdom Come

by AmunetMana



Category: Norse Religion & Lore, The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: AU, First Meetings, Jotun!Loki, M/M, Tony's a cyborg, We shall see., everything's different, human!Thor, is it an AU?, is it memory loss?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-05
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2017-12-10 11:27:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 49,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/785545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmunetMana/pseuds/AmunetMana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>There was something in Frigga’s face, in her slightly downturned lips and seemingly worried eyes that riled Thor's mind, setting him on edge. Then again, who was he to presume to understand the moods of the Queen?</i>
</p><p> </p><p>-</p><p>The long-fought war between Jotunheim and Asgard is resolved, and Kings Odin and Laufey rule the Nine Realms side by side. This is the truth Thor has grown up knowing, and he cannot place why he should expect things to be different. But after a chance run in with a mysterious Jotun in the woods, everything Thor knows will be changed forever. Plagued be dreams of another reality, and feelings not his own, he will learn that there is more to his world than he had ever known.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Silivren](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silivren/gifts).



> A long-awaited gift for my sister Silivren, I'm sorry it's taken me so long to post. It's almost finished writing, so I thought I'd try out the first chapter. Enjoy. ^^
> 
> ~
> 
> Run, run, run away  
> Buy yourself another day  
> A cold wind's whispering secrets in your ear  
> So low only you can hear  
> Run, run, run and hide  
> Somewhere no one else can find
> 
> Don't you fret, my dear  
> It'll all be over soon  
> I'll be waiting here for you  
> Run fast as you can  
> No one has to understand.

The Apple Ceremony. Witnessed by all, occurring twice every year. Each time the Gods would go to a different Branch of Yggdrasil, but the ceremony would be broadcast to every other Branch in any case. Still the prestige of being able to witness the Apple Ceremony live was immense, and this time, it was Midgard that had the honour.

 

Thor didn’t understand why so many flocked to see it. And yet, at the same time, could not explain why it was that he found himself unable to resist always being present at the Ceremony, although he never allowed himself to get too close to the occasion. It wasn’t like he couldn’t see perfectly well watching the screens from metres away. Speaking of which…

 

“Aren’t they incredible? I mean, not to blow my own horn, but since I got involved helping to develop the technology-“

 

“Since both you _and Bruce_ got involved, Tony…”

 

“Yes, yes, since I, with a little help from Bruce, got involved in the development project for the screenings, can’t you just see how far they’re come on? Look at the quality on that!” Tony Stark, technological genius extraordinaire, gestured wildly towards the giant, holographic screens with his metal hand, the planes of smooth silver gleaming in the afternoon sunlight. Steve narrowed his eyes at the boy, irritated on behalf of the third, the quiet Bruce who always minded being overlooked far less than Steve did on his behalf. Thor was sat on a short wall behind them, Tony leaning on it just to his left.

 

“Whoever the creation of the technology is down to, it is a most impressive work,” Thor tossed forward tactfully. Bruce smiled at him in shy thanks; Tony’s smirk just grew wider.

 

“Some of our best work yet, Bruce,” he said cheerfully, slapping his companion on the back, thankfully with the flesh limb. “We’re headed for great things after this, mark my words!”

 

“Your words are often nothing but thin air,” Steve scoffed, but even he no longer had any real anger in his voice, only admiration. Tony grinned at him, almost sweetly, before a sudden fanfare announced the start of the show. Thor shuffled uncomfortably on the wall as he watched the eight figures emerge onto the stage, the zoomed in images of their faces as they moved gracefully onto the stage displayed with perfect clarity on the surrounding screens. The rulers and gods of all the nine Branches.

 

Odin came first, walking in from the left, and was met in the centre by Laufey, who came in from the right. There had been no effort made to disguise the height difference between them, it was still clear to all who beheld them that they were of equal power, despite Laufey’s towering build. They met in the middle and gave each other a short bow, before standing to face the crowds. Next came their most trusted companions, Laufey’s youngest son, Býleistr, and Heimdall, the latter clad in his golden armour that shone in and like the sun.

 

Next came the women, the Queen Frigga and the Lady Sif, both clad in glistening, bejewelled gowns. Thor frowned at the appearance of these two in particular. There was something in Frigga’s face, in her slightly downturned lips and seemingly worried eyes that riled his mind, and set him on edge. Then again, who was he to presume to understand the moods of the Queen? Sif too set him on edge, but it was far harder to pinpoint just what it was about her than upset him.

 

Perhaps it was something about the too-delicate tilt of her head, the docile folding of her hands, and the carefully curling hair that tumbled down her back that didn’t sit right in his mind. Which made even less sense than the queen. It was fully expected that the Gods would act as their position dictated, so why wouldn’t Sif dress like the noblewoman she was?

 

Thor shook his head, attempting to clear it of thought as the final two members of the inner count came onto the stage. The heirs to the Yggdrasil: Helblindi Laufeyson, and Balder Odinson, two immeasurably different beings, both in appearance and personality. The towering, well formed Helblindi, his body clearly made for battle and power, alongside the more slender Prince of Asgard, whose silver hair was tied neatly behind him to hold it back from his face, and allow his cool blue eyes to survey all that was before him. Although he clearly lacked the same physical prowess of Helblindi, and even of his own father, it was well known throughout the branches that Balder was a commander of magic, well versed in spells and made him just as formidable as any of the Jotun royals.

 

And quite besides anything else, she sheer cool perfection of his features had most of the women in the crowd, and a few of the men, letting out dreamy sighs. Thor barely spared a glance at Tony’s screens, which he was certain were spending more time focused on Balder’s face than they really needed to. He wasn’t sure if they’d even shown Helblindi at all yet.

 

The royals assembled, the crowds began to roar, clapping and cheering as their Gods stood proudly before them, standing tall, the Æsir in shining armour, the Jotuns adorned with gemstones.

 

A few seconds later, a young girl came onto the stage her fresh, eager face filled with that well known mix of fear and awe; awe that she had been chosen for such a task, and fear of going wrong. Cradled in her arms, looking nearly too big to take her weight, she carried a golden bowl, filled to the brim with apples. The apples shared the same luminous glow of the golden bowl, and they illuminated the girl’s face, both of which could be seen clearly on the screens.

 

Thor felt a tightening in his gut, a strange uncomfortable feeling that made him feel sick. He glanced around his friends; all three seemed fixated on the ceremony, although Tony’s hand continued to toy with a screw in his arm that was coming loose. Having talked about it with them after previous ceremonies, Thor knew what they were feeling. Everyone who saw the golden apples of Idunn felt the same, a sudden desperate hunger, a sensation that they felt, that they somehow _knew_ in their gut, could only be satisfied by tasting the almost luminous fruit contained within the bowl and now being cupped by the Allfather. The crowd held its breath, for a second, and then teeth were biting into the delicate fruit, and a cheer went up as Odin held the apple aloft, juices running down and across his fingers. The apple was then passed to Laufey who took his own bite, provoking another cheer.

 

In similar fashion the remaining apples were passed around, shared between each pair who had come onto the stage together. Thor stared at them, gaze intense, and he didn’t realise just how hard he was gripping his arm until suddenly the ceremony was over, and Tony was shaking him, and he realised he had left nail marks in his own flesh from the tightness of his grip. He let out a long whistle of breath, sinking lower in his seat, watching as the last of the gods left the stage and, the event over, he crowds gradually started to disperse. _Such a tiny event, yet so much publicity,_ Thor mused, feeling a sick feeling sink into his stomach.

 

“Sorry, I’ve got to go…” he finally spoke in response to his friend’s questioning, tone vague and unusually elusive for the open man. Tony rolled his eyes at him.

 

“You always do this. Every Ceremony that happens, you always disappear,” Tony complained, throwing his arms up in exasperation. Steve and Bruce were taking a gentler approach, concerned expressions on their faces.

 

“Try to come back as quickly as you can?” Bruce asked softly, and Thor smiled tightly, but genuinely.

 

“I’ll do my best,” he promised, before finally leaving them and hurrying back to the house they shared. Tony was right, this was a regular thing, and as a result they had formed a routine. Thor would return to the house first, grab his trusted hunting axes, and any supplies he couldn’t forage for himself in the forest. The others would avoid coming home until he had gathered his things and disappeared into the woods for as long as he needed to clear his thoughts and wipe away the sick feeling in his stomach.

 

He always felt a little guilty when his head had finally cleared, and he was left surrounded by splintered bases of trees, fallen trunks surrounding him. He chopped it up as best he could and hauled it back for selling or for their own uses in the house. His way of apologising for his intense dislike of the Ceremony and the ill feelings it provoked in him.

 

The others would never ask him about why his disappeared, or try to understand why he disappeared, and for that Thor was thankful, seeing as he didn’t understand it himself.

 

He just…

 

Thor mused on the subject restlessly as he entered the wood, fists clenching and unclenching. The scent of the apples, Tony and the others had always said, smelled delectable enough to be faery food, after which no mortal sustenance would ever be enough again. To Thor, it had always smelt like a kind of death all on its own.

 

As he made his way through the trees, Thor slipped the axe out of its holster at his waist, slinging it in his hand, grip loose and ready to hurl at any prey. His ears were pricked, keen and searching as he crept through the woods. He didn’t actually need to be hunting; he had plenty both to eat himself and to sell for money to purchase anything else. If he was honest with himself, it felt like running away. Which was ridiculous – he had nothing to run away from. But this always seemed to be the case, whenever the Apple Ceremony took place, the inexplicable feelings of sickness rose within him, and he found himself want to run as far and as fast away as he possibly could.

 

His feet did indeed start to pick up speed, until he was racing through the forest, far too loudly to have even a hope of catching anything. Charging ahead like this, feeling the wind whipping against his face, there was no way for stressful thoughts to remain in his head, all sense of anything but the wind ripping through his hair, past his body, fled from his mind. So distracted he was from everything round him, he was completely oblivious to the figure that darted out in front of him, turning to face him in shock, before he crashed head over heels into them.

 

They tumbled down to the ground with yelps of surprise and pain, and Thor was struggling to push himself up, when his hand pressed down against the stranger’s palm. There was a startled gasp of pain and surprise from the figure underneath him, and Thor opened his mouth to apologise when the lightening suddenly shot up through his palm, and through his entire body.

 

~

 

Odin and Laufey were bent over a holographic tablet, discussing a matter that had arisen regarding Alfhiem, when the feeling shot through their chests.  Laufey was the first to recover, his red eyes glinting darkly as he regarded the Allfather, who still had his hand clutched to his chest.

 

“So, they have been found,” he declared, rising to stand as Odin pulled himself together, also standing and descending the flight of steps that led up to his throne, and the Kings exited the room in search of Heimdall, doubtless already searching out Loki and Thor with his all-seeing eyes.

 

“It seems to have been so long…” Odin commented, face set in a frown. Not one of anger, but one of deep thought as he mulled over the idea of finally seeing his sons again- no, not his sons. Odin’s son and Laufey’s son. He glanced over to Laufey, glad he had not said such a thing out loud. Laufey had ended up being terribly possessive of Loki, whether just because of the younger man’s unmatched prowess in magic or because of a sense of genuine kinship he did not know. They had had this argument before, however. Frigga had all but exploded in Laufey’s face upon hearing his lay claim to Loki, and above that daring to tell the Queen that her time spent with him was meaningless in the face of his true blood and heritage.

 

Frigga had snapped at him then, eyes cold with fury as she dared him, dared anyone to tell her that Loki was not just as much her son as Thor was, as any of her other children were. Odin had pointed out that Thor was not in fact her son either. Even when Ragnarök had come and gone, Odin knew he would never forget the way Frigga had looked at him, speechless with shock and betrayal, before she gathered herself up, and had swept out of the room, haughty, cold, and without a word.

 

Just like Loki would have done.

 

It was as though Frigga, and indeed her relationship with Odin, had never recovered after such a comment. She still attended the ceremonies, still attended public events, but was tight-lipped and stern at all, and the second they returned to the palace she would sweep herself away, not to be seen again. The servants took her any meals. Odin didn’t bother to ask them where it was his wife hid herself away.

 

He was pulled away from such thoughts, however, as the two Kings reached their destination, Odin pushing aside the intricate door that lay before them, and entering the room within.

 

~

 

Sif felt the run of magic through her body just as surely at the Kings had. The intensity of it made her stumble, and she berated herself for being such a weakling. Until she remembered that that was part of whom she was now. It was so long ago that she had abandoned her warrior’s garb and weapons, and taken up the position befitting of her rank in the halls of the gods. Yet…even as she unclenched her fist from her silky dress, and smoothed out the fabric, why did she still feel disgust for her weakness, and longing for the days of battle?

 

Trying to brush the troubling thoughts from her mind in favour of the far more important news, she hurried forwards down the corridor she had been travelling down, altering her direction as she approached a certain room, which, upon entering, she found Balder, Helblindi, and Heimdall already inside.

 

“My Lord Heimdall,” she greeted hurriedly, ducking her head respectfully, genteelly. “I felt…that is, have they-“

 

“Both of them have been found,” Heimdall’s deep tone echoed around the room, his eyes fixed on a distant point ahead of him. “They have made contact, and as such are now visible to me.”

 

“Then we will waste no time in bringing them to us,” A commanding voice spoke, and all eyes bar Heimdall’s snapped to the door as the Allfather and Laufey-King entered the room. Sif dropped into a second curtsey, Helblindi and Balder making short bows to their fathers.

 

“Send out a search party immediately,” Laufey continued where Odin had left off, nodding to his eldest. “Helblindi, you lead it. Bring them back as quickly as possible.”

 

“Ah, Laufey-King,” Sif spoke up, timidly, eyes casting down as the imposing frost giant turned his gaze on her. “I, I just wondered…” he spoke slowly, “Considering what has happened…in the past…would it not be best to approach them more subtly? Rather than with full armed Einherjar?”

 

Laufey was silent for a moment before he spoke again, answering the dark haired woman, “They are likely to resist either way. And Loki will discover anyone we send undercover within a matter of minutes. Better to send a force that can fight back than one which is easily overpowered,” he decided, dismissing her concerns swiftly. “Helblindi, move out as soon as you can.”

 

“Yes, father,” the younger frost giant replied, bowing once again before exiting the room. Balder, who had watched the entire exchange silently now stepped forward, his head tilted delicately to the side.

 

“Father,” he began, features eerie in their stillness as he focused his blue gaze on Odin. “May I request that I…” he trailed off, eyes still fixed on Odin.

 

The Allfather sighed, inclining his head. “You may not,” he said heavily, “but I feel you will do it even if I order you not to.” He fixed Balder with a matching blue gaze, which his son returned with blatantly suspicious innocence. Odin sighed gain jerking his head towards the door, and the corner of Balder’s lips twitched, as he excited the room, turning down the corridor after Helblindi.

 

Sif watched them go, a sinking feeling in her stomach.

 

“If I may be excused, my lords?” she asked quietly, and the Kings bowed their heads in agreement. Sif left the room swiftly, having to steel herself to head towards her chambers instead of following Helblindi down to the stables. Maybe she could do some painting or weaving or something to occupy her twitching fingers.

 

~

 

It took several minutes, but the hand was finally snatched out of Thor’s grasp.  He was left staring at his empty fingers blankly, before gaping up at the figure before him. The figure was standing directly in the path of the sunlight, effectively hiding him from Thor’s view. Thor’s palm still tingled, as he attempted to form words and try to comprehend what had just happened.

 

“That…was…” he stared, before the words failed him and he trailed off, absently pulling himself to his feet before looking in wonder at the, slightly shorter, figure before him. Although no longer bothered by the sunlight, the stranger had snatched the opportunity to cover their face secretively with their hood, shielding them once again from Thor’s view. “Excuse me, I…I don’t know how to explain this but did you just feel-“ Thor was interrupted rudely by the figure suddenly and sharply turning away from him, stalking away into the woods. “Hey!” Thor cried out, reaching out a grabbing them by the wrist once more.

 

The result was instant, the sensation shooting through them both again like a lightning bolt, almost bringing them to their knees. Thor’s eyes were wide, and he didn’t let the wrist out of his grip this time, even as noises of protest started to come from the hooded figure.

 

“I demand you release me!” a deep voice suddenly hissed, and the man- because now Thor was sure it was a man, pulled his arm so hard Thor felt something unpleasant click in it, causing the man to let out a hiss of pain.

 

“I’m sorry,” Thor told him sincerely, although he didn’t loosen his grip. “But I…I need to…” He was cut across by the sudden sound of hooves and feet, pounding through the forest, apparently demolishing the foliage as they went, the sound o branches snapping as loud as the thudding feet. Thor started to shuffle nervously, an implacable feeling of guilt making him suddenly restless. The hooded man seemed just as jumpy, dancing back from foot to foot, a hiss coming from under the heavy hood as the sounds drew closer to their location. Thor started to move away when the yell came.

 

“You! Halt!” came the sudden cry above the pounding of hooves, and Thor looked around once again to see who could be on the receiving end of such a command. Seeing no one as before, a feeling of shock sunk into his mind, and he turned wide eyed to face the small group of soldiers, _armed_ soldiers, both Jotun and Æsir bearing down on him. He stared a moment more, still unable to believe that they could possibly be speaking to him when he heard a sudden curse from behind. He turned back t the hooded figure that had shrunk back, head shaking from side to side as he looked around seemingly for a means of escape.

 

“They’re after you?” Thor spoke half to the strange, half to himself, beginning to move away when another shout from the soldiers commanded him to be still once again. _Both of them?_ Thor thought incredulously, head twisting between his cloaked companion and the soldiers.

 

Before Thor could open his mouth, before he could even say a word or process the idea that the soldiers were there for him or all people, he suddenly felt his wrist being grasped with electric sensation, and he was suddenly being dragged through trees and foliage by the cloaked man, who didn’t even look back to the blonde as they ploughed forward, away from the Einherjar. The figure before him seemed to be a strange kind of clumsy, Thor thought in confusion. Despite his clear ability to navigate the thick roots and bushes that provided coverage for the forest floor, he kept slamming into tree trunks, fingers catching along branches and leaves as they passed.

 

Thor’s mouth opened to ask just what was happening, when he heard a sudden rustling from behind. He twisted his head to try and see, and almost killed himself tripping over a root and almost dragging down his fellow escapee in the process. But the glance had shown him all he needed to; the foliage springing forth thicker and faster than could possibly be natural. With another glance at the slender hands, Thor thought he could even make out glowing symbols on them, magic illuminating them and causing their path to be masked.

 

In light of that discovery, Thor’s lips sealed shut, and he cautiously bestowed his trust onto the man dragging him forward, their tightly gripped hands still causing an electric current to flow through his veins, bringing him alive in a way he hadn’t thought possible.


	2. (a)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It’s like a sickness_  
>  I’m powerless to stop it  
> My boring life, my little heart  
> Made misanthropic  
> Don’t give me reasons  
> Just give me therapy  
> (But really just give me what I want)

The guards attempted to pursue for a good while, but soon found themselves lost in the woods, the horses of the Æsir struggling to pick their way through, and the Jotuns too large themselves to be able to navigate a Midgardian forest with any kind of ease.

 

“Damn it all,” came an aggravated voice fro the back of the party, and the soldiers all quickly bowed their heads and backed away to the sides as Helblindi stormed his way through, snapping branches as he went and cursing as he found himself unable to pass through.

 

“You will have no luck with that,” came a second voice, and the next figure to pass through had the guards bowing even lower than they had for Helblindi. Balder kept his chin tilted up as he rode his grey horse through the path created by the soldiers. He kept his expression aloof, delicate features fixed and lovely. Helblindi may have commanded respect as a soldier and as a leader, but Balder inspired devotion with appearance alone.

 

Balder the Beautiful.

 

Balder the Sorcerer.

 

Balder the Warrior.

 

Helblindi glared back at his companion, not taken in by the youth’s looks for a minute. He may have fallen for the pretty face at the beginning, but he had spent far too much time with the other prince since, seen his temper snap childishly one too many times to hold his in the same reverence as the soldiers did.

 

“And why, pray tell, will I be having no luck?” the frost giant sneered, and Balder slipped down from his horse, navigating the roots delicately to come to stand beside him, reaching out to place long fingers on the trees around them. A faint blue glow emanated from his hands.

 

“A spell has been cast to make these grow,” Balder explained, bending down to push at the dirt further tendrils of his magic slipping out to search through the ground, to locate their target. “Be reassured, Helblindi. It is not simply your size that is making you struggle so with the terrain. Although the odds are already stacked somewhat against you.” He murmured, eyes slipping shut and eyebrows furrowing as he pushed forward with his magic, desperately, and with an edge of panic, searching for any residue or imprint left behind for the runaways. Helblindi just scowled down at the mop of silky straight silver hair, tied back neatly. He hardly thought one who was already undersized for his own kind had any right to comment on the widely regarded impressive size of another kind. He experienced satisfaction as he saw Balder’s fist suddenly clench in the dirt, knuckles turning white as his magic dissipated, clearly unsuccessful in his task.

 

“Having some trouble there, Balder?” Helblindi asked lightly, lips curling into a grin.

 

“It would appear the Jotun has been using his magic to quite the effective end,” Balder said simply, although the crinkling of his eyebrows and the grit of his teeth gave away his irritation at the situation. He brushed a strand of silver hair back as he tried to focus his own magic on seeking out the fleeing couple, not one to sit back as his magic was outdone.

 

“That is obvious,” Helblindi snarked, anger returning. He was just as annoyed that their prey had succeeded in escaping them, but still enjoying Balder’s taste of failure after the Jotuns had been so disadvantaged by the trees. “And you would do well to refer to him with more respect than that. He is more than just any random Jotun.”

 

“Not at the moment he isn’t,” Balder countered softly, his hands starting to glow once again with a faint blue light, “he is a stranger to both you and I at this moment, as is the other. But as soon as they have partaken in the apples,” he murmured, extending his hand, and watching the glow leave it into order to indicate the direction they needed to next head it, “now, after the apples, that’ll be a different story.”

 


	3. (b)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _But I’ve a strangeness_  
>  A queer propensity  
> For twisting the knife too easily.

Thor and the stranger finally slammed to a stop, Thor pitching forward onto his knees as he breathed heavily, gulping in lungful after lungful of air. His sudden and unexpected companion was half collapsed against a tree, also wheezing from lack of breath. He wasn’t actually sure just how long they had kept running for, but it was long enough for lights to dim and pain to start throbbing in his side.

 

“What was that?” Thor asked as soon as he was able to speak. “Why were there Einherjar? What have I- we, what have we done? What have you done?” he took another look at the hooded figure, “Who are you?” he asked finally, the most important question escaping him until he had worked at least some of the tangle of thoughts out of his head. The hooded man gave a startled, derisive laugh, at Thor’s expense and at the expense of his confused questions.

 

“I am Loki,” the stranger finally let slip through gritted teeth, “and I was perfectly happy minding my own business until _you_ came and slammed into me, and apparently brought the _royal army_ with you!”

 

“I did not bring them!” Thor protested loudly, “I have never done anything to warrant the attention of the royal families, certainly not enough to require arrest by the _royal Einherjar_ …” he pondered his actions of the day, wondering just what it was he had done. Because surely there was something? The Gods themselves would not take interest in him had he not done anything wrong…his mind wandered back to the Apple Ceremony his gut tightening uncomfortably once again. He hadn’t realised, but since the collision the anxiety and tension he had been feeling had completely disappeared, all throughout their escape and collapse against the trees.

 

The second his thoughts had returned to the ceremony had made the heaviness settle on his shoulders, dampening his mood. The now named Loki was apparently either completely unaware of the feelings that had come down on Thor, or he simply didn’t care, as he let out another mocking laugh. “And what, you think it must therefore be I who has done something?” he asked snappily, arms crossing beneath his cloak as he pushed off the tree to stand with his hip jutted to the side.

 

Thor frowned, “How would I know?” he asked, his own tone sour, “I have never met you before! You could be a criminal for all I know!”

 

“Well I assure you I am not!” Loki returned, “it is the same from my position, I do not know you are who you say you are, nor do I know what you have or have not done. I can’t trust a word you say. Even if I wished to, which I don’t, I would not be able to do so.”

 

“I would think I am more trustworthy than you. At least I don’t skulk around forests with my face covered!” Thor shot a pointed look at the hood. “Besides. They said it was the both of us they wanted. We must be equally guilty in whatever we have done. If we are to run together, we should be able to at least trust each other a little?” He tried to offer a peaceful gesture, although he had no idea, and very little confidence in fact, that Loki would accept it. Indeed, Loki did not seem impressed or encouraged, stepping back from Thor.

 

“I do not wish to work with you. I do not wish to be anywhere near you!” he claimed. “If I am to be stuck with you, so be it, but I will only endure it for as long as it takes to straighten out this ridiculous mess.”

 

“So be it,” Thor agreed slowly, “But if we are to work together I demand you at least show your face to me. I cannot trust one whose face I cannot even see.”

 

“Tough,” Loki shot him down immediately, “I have every right to keep myself concealed if I wish, I have no obligation to you.” He said snippily, chin tilting up proudly. Thor grew angry, and he strode towards Loki angrily, hand outstretched,

 

“At least once, I demand you show me your face!” Thor cried out loudly and, before Loki could protest, Thor had seized hold of his hood and ripped it back, eliciting a cry of pain from Loki as his hair was caught in his grip. But Thor barely noticed, as he stared with intense wonder at Loki’s face.

 

Black and gold tattoos rioted across as much of Loki’s skin as Thor could see. The seemed to shimmer and fade, the curling patterns sinking in and out of view under his skin. The sound of a throat clearing could suddenly be heard, and Thor looked down to find Loki with eyebrow raised at him, expression still pained and furious, hood down around his shoulders for the first time since they met. Thor released his grip on the fabric and Loki’s hair, taking a step back to take in the full appearance of his apparent partner in crime.

 

Long black hair tumbled over his shoulders, curling down to mid back. It was pushed back from his forehead; Thor spied a couple of shiny gold beads threaded in to help keep it in place. It revealed pointed ears, coloured a deep blue, as was the rest of his skin, where it hadn’t been dyed darker by the stab of a needle, and then later highlighted with gold. Looking closely, Thor realised it wasn’t actually solid black, but thousands of lines of tiny runes and spells, inscribed right across Loki’s skin, across his palms and fingers, and trailing up along the inside of his wrist, to…

 

Loki cleared his throat again, and Thor looked him in the eyes guiltily.

 

“Like what you see?” Loki asked dryly, sharply, opening his arms outwards in mocking display to allow Thor a better view. Somehow, the plain cloak and simple leggings and tunic looked out of place against Loki’s deep blue skin and red eyes, which were still narrowed with fury at Thor’s impatient violence.

 

“You…” Thor attempted to speak, to find anything in his suddenly empty head to say to him, “You are of Jotun blood?”

 

“And of Æsir,” Loki said indifferently, examining his nails as if he had not a care in the world for lineage or race. Not that that was an uncommon view in this day and age, but he did seem to be more than a little overly nonchalant about it. “What of it?”

 

“How can you be sure it is Æsir? It may be Midgardian.” Thor argued pointlessly, still staring. Loki gave a huff of impatience.

 

“Midgard blood drains the colour of Jotun skin. Æsir blood deepens and enriches it.” Loki informed him.

 

“Oh.” Was Thor’s eloquent reply. It occurred to him that before now he had never had an answer for why the smaller breed of Jotuns could have skin colours ranging from the deepest royal blue to the pale almost grey-based tones that others had. “Is it the same with the markings…?” he asked curiously, thumb reaching up to brush over the scores marked across Loki’s forehead, brushing against the black and gold writing that lay between them, the tattoos even extending to his face.

 

Loki flinched backwards and slapped Thor’s hand away. “I do not know about the markings,” he replied, snappishly. “There seems to be no correlation between outside blood and the prominence of markings, other than the more distant the Jotun blood, the more the markings fade.” His fingers rose to run across his own markings gently, feeling the ridges that mapped out his face. Thor swallowed loudly, and tried not to imagine tracing his own fingers over those markings, feeling Loki shiver at the touch, beneath his fingers-

 

 _Woah. Woah there, brain. Back up a few steps._ Thor had only just met Loki- and by running into him no less. And now they were being chased by palace soldiers, for reasons still unbeknownst to the both of them, and yet he honestly couldn’t stop staring at Loki, drawn to him by some unknown force. Thor’s finger’s twitched; he wondered if he would feel that same electric sensation once again if he were to make contact with blue skin again.

 

Loki had apparently grown sick of Thor’s deep thought and prolonged silence, his own long fingers dancing anxiously over his arms. Like Thor, he had no idea why the Einherjar had suddenly appeared, or why he was feeling such revulsion towards Thor, such an urgent need to get away. “This is ridiculous…” he muttered angrily, moving a couple of steps away from Thor. “This whole situation is downright ludicrous. Why in all the nine realms are we being chased? I don’t even _know_ you!” he cried, ignoring the pang in the back of his mind at those words.

 

I don’t even know you.

 

_I am not your brother. I never was._

 

Loki’s eyes winced shut, and he pressed a palm to his forehead. _What on earth was that?!_ Hethought in startled confusion, lips parting to emit a groan of pain as an icy sensation crept through his veins, the voice, his _own_ voice, echoing in his mind and speaking words he didn't understand. He muttered a little, eyes flickering open and close as he traced his fingers across several runes on his brow. Thor watched in fascination as the tattoos across Loki's hand began to glow, matching those he had marked out on his forehead, Loki’s intense frown relaxing slightly as his magic worked its way into his head, relaxing the pain, and driving the voice away.

 

“I do not know why we are being chased,” Thor eventually spoke, trying to convey his lack of ill will to the Jotun with calming hand motions and a soothing tone, unsure of what Loki had just experienced, but recognising easily the signs of a headache and the venomous look Loki shot in his direction, as though he blamed Thor entirely for his pain. Which, for all Thor knew, he might do, "All I know is that the both of us must work together, we are more likely to stay safe and out of the soldier's grasp by working together. I have friends who live near enough to hear, they will help us." He smiled at his own words, feeling a little triumphant at such a plan. Loki's expression relaxed slightly, turning considering as he pondered.

 

"That...seems as though it would be satisfactory for at least a first plan. Perhaps they could help us discover why it is we're wanted..." He mused, before a frown came across his face. "So, what are they?" He asked, in a deliberately careless voice, "Your friends, I mean. Which realms do they hail from?"

 

Thor blinked, surprised by the question. "They are Midgardian. Although we suspect Steve may have æsir blood in his somewhere. You'd understand if you saw him," Thor assured Loki. The frost giant was facing him, studying him curiously.

 

"And yourself?" Loki asked, peering at Thor's features. "What are your own origins?"

 

"I do not know," Thor told him, honestly and easily, although his expression showed his confusion at Loki's persistence in the matter. There was so much travel between the realms; he did not see what the interest was. "I have no parents, and so do not know what lineages I may have, although Midgard seems the most likely I cannot ever be certain. I am Son-of-no one."

 

"...Indeed..." Was all Loki apparently had to say in response, as he turned away from Thor and swiftly pulling his cloak's hood up to shield his face once again. Thor tried very hard not to be disappointed at the loss of it from his line of vision. “If we are to go to your friends, it would be probably be best to stick to the edge of the forest,” Loki continued, starting to walk. “It may be a longer route, but the Einherjar will likely believe us to stay hidden in the forest.”

 

“Whatever you think will work best,” Thor agreed, having not really put any thought into their plan on getting to Tony and the others. “You’re the smarter one, your strategies are always better.”

 

Loki halted abruptly, causing Thor to almost crash into him again. Loki pushed his hood back, not to expose his whole head but to expose his shocked expression. “What are you talking about?” Loki asked, his freaked out expression tinged with the strangest shade of curiosity. Thor frowned, recalling his own words.

 

“…I don’t know. You came up with a good idea? That’s all,” he suggested, almost sounding like he was trying to convince himself. Loki studied him with suspicious red eyes a moment longer before tugging his hood back again and continuing to walk, although Thor soon found himself being allowed to walk a few steps ahead. In the interests of the trust he had been insistent on before, he tried not to imagine Loki stabbing him in the back at any opportunity, although he kept his hand resting on his axe, fingers curled nervously around the handle.

 

After their walk had taken them almost to the edge of the forest, lights twinkling in the distance to indicate their approach to the town, the light had already disappeared from the sky above, and it was Loki who suggested they stop for the night. There had been no sign of Einherjar as they had been walking, but Thor offered to be on the lookout for activity anyway. Loki had eyed him suspiciously but had agreed.

 

Loki reluctantly removed his cloak for the night, once again revealing the beautiful inky marks travelling across his face and down his neck as he spread the cloak out on the ground ready to use it as makeshift bedding. Thor gazed, in a way he thought was subtle but clearly wasn’t as Loki shot him a filthy look. Thor shrugged it off with relative ease, looking at Loki’s cloak spread out beneath him. He had brought a blanket himself, but nothing more substantial than that, not knowing how long he would be in the woods and not wanting to be overburdened whilst he hunted, but there was little he could do now.

 

So he let himself rest on the forest floor, choosing to pull the sparse blanket over himself rather than lie on top of it. Surrounded by stirring leaves, he allowed his eyes to drift shut, as the tumult of the day worked its way through his mind, and settled finally, allowing him to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things finally start to get moving~ Just wait until next chapter. >D
> 
> Please comment and tell me what you think~


	4. Snuff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _So if you love me let me go  
>  And run away before I know  
> My heart is just too tired to care  
> I can’t destroy what isn’t there  
> _

_“Brother! Brother! Bro-o-o-theeeer!”_

_The loud wail could be hear all throughout the surrounding corridors of the palace, as could the pounding sound of feet as the blonde haired child rushed to find the source of the crying. He eventually entered a room, where a black haired boy sat in the middle of the floor, surrounded by books. It was obvious from the disarray, the dark haired child’s loud wails, and the way he was sprawled out across the floor that there had been an accident._

_“Brother, what happened?” the blonde asked loudly, dropping to his own knees to draw the smaller close. The dark haired boy latched onto his brother eagerly, his loud cries gradually dying down as he clung to the shirt in front of him, turning it damp with tears._

_“I-I just wanted a b-ook, b-ut it all fell do-o-own!” he sobbed, clinging as tightly as he could. His blonde sibling stroked his hair soothingly, pulling the boy as close as he could._

_“Shh, shh…it’s ok now brother, I’ve got you. You’re going to be fine now, brother.” He murmured soothingly, “I’ll take care of you now, brother._

_I’ll always take care of you, Loki.”_

 

Loki’s eyes snapped open, his breath being sucked in with a rasping sound. He sat up sharply, groaning as the world rocked around him. That dream. That dream had been- Loki swore softly under his breath, as he felt the memories already slipping out of his gasp. Rubbing his temples slowly, he activated a couple of the golden runes inked there to try and disperse the thumping headache that had already started up.

 

 _‘It’s too early for this…’_ he thought irritably, twisting around to peel his cloak off of the ground, and he suddenly caught sight of the large blonde Thor, sprawled out at what Loki deemed to be a completely unacceptably close distance, still asleep and twisted towards Loki. The blanket that had been atop him was now in a twisted mess around his legs, and Loki’s eyes rolled, the memories of the previous evening catching up with him and making him groan, the pain returning to his head despite his spell.

 

 _‘_ Far _too early.’_ Loki reiterated mentally, already in a thoroughly bad mood as he shook out his cloak, dislodging the leaves from it before he strode over to Thor, fully ready to kick him in the side in order to wake him, when something struck him about the sleeping man’s face. Pausing in his violent wake-up scheme, Loki hesitantly bent down to crouch beside Thor’s head, staring at the relaxed features studiously. Hesitantly, his fingers outstretched to trace along Thor’s hairline, along his cheek and dangerously close to his mouth. Loki felt a strange sensation in his cheeks, and the stirring of something he couldn’t identify in his chest. A faint memory stirred in his mind and his hands stretched out, grasping at Thor’s shirt.

 

His eyes were half lidded, and he bent down even closer, inhibitions slowly vanishing as he came close to Thor’s chest, the sensation growing stronger, and memory almost within his grasp-

 

When Thor’s arms suddenly shot out, pulling Loki down against the ground, and even more, against Thor’s chest. The shock jolted Loki out of his half daze, and fully back into his bad mood. He glared at Thor, fully expecting the man to be awake and with a teasing smile on his face. Instead, he was met with the same serene expression, the only difference being the slight upward twitch of lips to indicate the sleeping man’s pleasure at having, apparently, a brand-new teddy bear.

 

Loki struggled, intending to free himself from the oaf’s grip, but a puff of warm air against his face made him pause, and he stared down at Thor’s sleeping face which, upon drawing the Jotun into his arms, had spread into a full, contented smile, as opposed to the small movement of lips there had been before. Loki stared at it, expression disbelieving.

 

“You fool…” he murmured, pressing his hand against Thor’s chest, but couldn’t bring himself to wake the man. Instead, he found he was content to remain lying down, peacefully. Encircled by strong arms, he felt he could almost drift back to sleep until finally, the sun rose in the sky, and Thor’s eyes opened at long last.

 

He had the gall to look surprised at the sight of the thunderously disapproving Loki glaring at him from the circle of his arms, all his anger having returned at the sight of the awake but still blank face. Thor still didn’t release him, even when awake and faced with such an expression.

 

“Loki?” he questioned, tone light. “What are you doing here?”

 

“What am I doing here? Oh I just thought it might be pleasant to get myself trapped within the embrace of an oaf who can’t tell the difference between a full grown Jotun and his childhood toys!” Loki said sarcastically, wriggling to show his desire to move. Thor apparently was not at his brightest in the early hours of the morning, as he simply squinted at Loki, mulling over his words and getting five from two plus two.

 

“You did?” he asked, and all but snuggled Loki closer, causing the blue body to stiffen.

 

“Oh for the love of…” Loki hissed, and finally delivered a swift, ruthless knee to Thor’s privates. That certainly woke him up, the blonde man’s face contorting in acute pain, releasing Loki and rolling over, away from him. Loki smirked in vicious victory, finally able to stand and shake himself out once more. He helped himself to rooting through Thor’s supplies whilst the other groaned and whimpered on the ground (honestly, it’s hadn’t been that hard, he was such a child) in order to search for supplies.

 

“Why do you have so little food in here?” He called back to Thor, once he’d had a good rummage and found meagre provisions, but not nearly enough to last for one planning on staying out in the woods for an extended period of time. “How long were you planning to stay in the woods for? You brought a near-useless blanket for sleeping purposes, sparse food that could keep you satisfied for no more than a day, surely...you have perishable foods too.” Loki shot Thor, who was finally sitting up and only looking a little miserable about the state of his privates, a condescending, curious look. “Either you are the worst camper I have ever met, or you did not plan to stay for more than a single night?” He guessed, abandoning Thor’s bag in order to stand.

 

“I did not know how long I would be staying for,” Thor confessed, also standing and allowing himself another self-pitying wince. “I was…not in my right mind when I packed. I assumed I would be able to hunt for anything else I needed…”

 

“For one person that might have sufficed,” Loki admitted, taking note of the heavy axes Thor had secured around his waist, “but not if the two of us stay together. Which, as much as I would prefer not to, it would no doubt be wiser to do.” He turned to look towards the edge of the forest, “There is a market at the edge of the forest, I believe. If we are lucky, we put enough distance between ourselves and the soldiers that we should be able to get supplies there before they are able to set the people against us.”

 

“You think they will try to turn people against us?” Thor questioned.

 

“I do. They will tell the people either the truth of why they want us, or if it is a secret matter, will spread some lie that will guarantee that the people will be on the guard and looking out for us,” Loki paused, lip quirking up sardonically after a moment. “Why deploy many soldiers when you can simply use the common man as your eyes and ears?” he explained, and Thor shivered a little. He had never put much thought into such things before, and both the idea of being able to trust no one and the fact that Loki appeared to have put much thought into the matter unsettled him.

 

“Let’s hurry then,” he muttered, ending the conversation by moving to snatch up his bag and slinging it over his shoulders, walking briskly towards the point where he could see the trees thinning. Loki blinked in surprise, having no idea that his conversation might make Thor uncomfortable. Shrugging it off, he followed after Thor, pulling his hood up to hide his face away once more. They walked together in a not quite companionable silence; Thor unable to think of any topic of conversation other than the reason they are being hunted for, and Loki uninterested in petty conversations.

 

It was much the same once they had reached the village, although Thor’s mood naturally lifted upon being amongst a bustling crowd, watching the people mill back and forth, those with Jotun heritage standing a little taller than everyone else, a couple of dwarfs hurrying around and bumping into a set of knees. Thor grinned at the sight, but Loki apparently did not share the sentiment, neither for dwarfs nor crowded places.

 

“Let’s get this over with as soon as possible,” was his irritated contribution to the non-existent conversation, and Thor sighed.

 

“Very well,” he replied tersely, making his way into the crowds, pushing towards the first vendor. Progress was slow, as despite Loki’s seemingly no-nonsense approach to gathering supplies earlier, he became fussy and unhelpful as they made their way around the stalls, picking faults in everything Thor did or chose, dismissing products rudely and dragging him to the next stall to find something more to his princess-fancy. Thor wanted to snap at him that they couldn’t be fussy if they were on the run, but he knew that crowded places had a habit of becoming quiet just as you said something you wished not to be overheard. And so he grit his teeth and allowed himself to be pulled along, every so often meeting the gazes of the vendors, whose expressions often ranged somewhere between irritable at Loki’s attitude, and sympathy for Thor, who was putting up with it without a word of complaint.

 

They had finally succeeded in making several small purchases, when suddenly Loki’s voice rang out in shock, and Thor’s stomach clenched.

 

“Shit!” Loki’s curse was swift and sharp, as was his tug on Thor’s shoulder to bring them back behind the covering of a wall.

 

“Loki?” Thor questioned, having the instincts to at least speak in a whisper, gazing down at the Jotun by his side, who was peering anxiously around the corner and out at the market they had just been perusing.

 

“Balder. Prince Balder is there, talking to the vendor we were just at,” Loki hissed, grabbing Thor’s arm and pulling him along rapidly. “Gods know what he’s telling them about why they want us, but it’s not going to be good. They’ll know we were here in no time,” Loki’s voice was low and he spoke swiftly, but he couldn’t hide the panic laced through his words. And, Thor wondered, it may have been his imagination but didn’t Loki seem more worried about the Einherjar than he had done before?

 

“That is still something I do not understand,” Thor joined in the muttering, Loki’s grip falling away from his arm as he reached his stride, matching Loki’s easily, “It is one thing for a criminal to be chased down by royal Einherjar, depending on the severity of the crime. But for Prince Balder to be here, searching for us? Regardless of the fact we do not even know what crime we have committed, there is no reason in any realm I can imagine why they’d send the prince after us!”

 

“Yes, well…” Loki began, but a sudden yell and the clattering of what could only be soldiers built up behind them, and the turned to see a ground of Einherjar appear around the corner, one of them spotting the duo. “That’s all very well and good, but I would much rather prefer to discuss it outside of the prisons of Asgard!”

 

With that they broke into a run, the Einherjar following with a yell. Thor bumped into a cart of apples, sending them tumbling, along with the Einherjar who ran too quickly to notice and soon found themselves with angry vendors blocking their way and demanding a price for the fruit. As Thor almost slammed into another cart thanks to his distraction, Loki reached back to grab his hand and pull him forward into the path Loki made before him. Thor gripped his hand tightly, not even sure he cared about using their escape as an excuse for the rush that filled him from contact with those long blue digits.

 

But suddenly, as they turned a corner, there were no longer fingers in his, and Thor stumbled back as Loki vanished from his sight, leaving Thor abandoned, with the sound of Einherjar growing ever closer. “Loki?” Thor hissed in panic, stumbling around in a circle, panicking as the sounds of yelling grew closer and closer, and there was nowhere to hide – and then suddenly there were long fingers gripping the back of his tunic in a vice grip, and hauling him up into a branch. Fingers then wrapped around his lips and he was pulled back deep into the tree, his back pressed firmly against Loki’s chest, who was in turn pressed against the tree. Loki’s breath hissed in Thor’s ear, and Thor could feel the thumping of both their hearts, increasing as the sound of heavy footfall and muttering could be heard from below. The hissing soon turned to muttered incantations, and Thor could see and feel the tendrils of golden magic as they twisted around his limbs, leaving what they touched dimmed and near transparent, faded against the branches that already concealed them well.

 

After a few heart-numbing moments, the sounds from below finally faded, as the Einherjar finished searching the ground levels and moved on. Thor was surprised they had not combed the trees too, but he supposed there were a number of reasons why they wouldn’t. Least of all because he had a feeling Loki’s magic had probably done more than to make them look a little transparent.

 

“…That was too close,” Loki finally breathed out, and Thor let out a weak laugh in agreement, pulling away with no small reluctance from the slightly smaller figure. The branch creaked ever so slightly as Thor moved outwards on it, away from the thicker, more secure centre of the tree, which Loki was still pressed into, as if he’d be crushed into the space by some large opponent. Thor blinked, Loki shifted, and suddenly the comparison was lost, and Thor wondered how it had ever been there to begin with.

 

“Too close perhaps,” Thor agreed, “But we still do not have all we need. We will need to go back to the market again if we intend to have enough to last us back to my friends.”

 

“We would be caught as soon as we enter the market!” Loki protested, “Everyone will know by now that a pair of criminals were spotted in the vicinity, pursued by an entire group of Einherjar, to go back now would be suicide!”

 

“Not if we split up,” Thor said, firmly. Loki fixed his sharp gaze on him, eyes narrowed, “I know what you said about it being best to stick together,” Thor continued hastily, not letting Loki interrupt, “but you also said that they would be looking for a pair of criminals. Simply by working separately to gather supplies we would attract less attention.” He finished, peering intently at Loki’s face, waiting for his reaction. Loki blinked up at him in shock, as if it hadn’t quite occurred to him that Thor could have ideas of his own.

 

“That’s…quite clever, actually,” the Frost Giant said faintly, and Thor allowed himself a grin despite the situation. “I could add a glamour too,” Loki added, eyes narrowing as he retreated slightly into his own thoughts, “you wouldn’t need a very strong one, just a little something to divert attention…something _boring_ , I think,” he said finally, looking back to Thor and reaching up to trace a few shapes around Thor’s face, glowing faintly once again. “There we go,” he said finally, patting Thor absently on the cheek before pulling away. You’ll be fine like that.”

 

“Where are you going?” Thor asked curiously as Loki began to slide down from the tree, hood up and around his face once again.

 

“If we’re going to split up anyway, I’m going to do a little investigating,” Loki landed with a small thump at the base of the tree, Thor sliding down after him. Loki turned his head halfway back towards Thor, so his profile was just showing. “Since we know for a fact they have the people searching for us now, and that whatever it is we have done is enough to warrant the attention of Prince Balder, they are sure to have given a reason. I intend to discover just what it is we have…done.” He said it distastefully.

 

“Will you be safe?” Thor asked, a spike of worry in his chest. Loki scoffed,

 

“Don’t you worry about me. Where I’ll be looking and listening, royalty doesn’t deign to tread. You’ll be the one right in the open,” Loki said cheerfully, clapping Thor on the shoulder. Said shoulders sagged a little but Thor didn’t complain. They agreed quickly upon a meeting place and time back in the woods, and set out on their separate ways, Thor heading back to the market under a glamour, and Loki secreting himself into the shadows almost immediately, too subtle for Thor to see at all after a moment. He paused for just a few seconds, staring down the alley, and wondering about his companion. Loki seemed to be a collection of bizarre personality traits tied up into a mismatched vessel of Jotun and æsir, and Thor wasn’t sure he’d ever get a handle of his true personality. If he even had such a thing. Half of what came out of Loki’s mouth seemed to be biting truth, which cut deep and accurate despite Loki having only half the knowledge he should need to make them, and the other half Thor was convinced Loki was lying through his teeth. For what reason, Thor couldn’t fathom. He half wondered if Loki lied just because it amused him to see the results. _He’d always been like that. There was nothing which gave him greater amusement than stringing the court along to his whims without them even realising he was doing so_.

 

Thor blinked suddenly, eyes unfocusing for a moment as a blur of gold and green passed across his mind’s eye.

 

Court?

 

Always?

 

_…What?_

 

Thor shook his head from side to side, until the last winks of colour had faded from his mind, finally leaving his vision clear. Well that was weird. Weird, but as it turned out, quick to fade from his mind, leaving behind only a faint bugging sensation of déjà vu, as Thor made his way back to the marketplace to continue the shopping alone. He shifted uncomfortably under the shimmer of Loki’s spell, feeling the itch that always came with the hum of another’s magic being used upon oneself. However it was not just that he found, but the dishonesty of stealing from these people who had done nothing wrong pained him. He had been shopping for a while now, and in the interest of avoiding too much contact had simply slipped a few items from each stall, and if possible he tried to leave a few coins balanced on the edge of the counters where he could, but he did not know if the people he stole from would find it, or if the coins would be snatched up by the greedy pickpockets that roamed the streets.

 

Therefore he tried to limit what he bought, glancing over the less necessary items and trying to stick onto to what was absolutely necessary. Loki had disappeared off on his own, claiming he was hunting for any information that might have spread about the reasons for their being hunted down. Considering his way with words, combined with magic, Thor had little doubt he’d be successful.

 

He glanced around, having checked what he had already ‘bought’ and checking that he was completely finished before returning to the woods. However, as he was turning, something glittering caught his eyes. Focusing on it fully, he realised it was a jewellery stand. Thor wandered over to it slowly; he had everything else he needed, the spell Loki had cast was still holding strong, so a little look couldn’t hurt. Much of the jewellery, glittering earrings and necklaces, pendants, were heavily weighed down with precious stones, several pendants looking almost too large to be able to sit comfortably on one’s chest. Thor’s eyes glanced over these swiftly. There was only one person he had in mind when he’d come to this stall, and gemstones were not what he would appreciate, Thor was sure. He was about to give up hope, when a single item caught his hand. It was a gold band, designed to be worn on the wrist. It was reasonably thick, and at first glance seemed to be totally without decoration. But when Thor picked it up to take a closer look, he realised the entirety of its out surface was inscribed with the tiniest, most detailed designs he had ever seen on metalwork. On anything, really.

 

It was perfect.

 

He caught the gaze of the vendor, and cleared his throat, “How much is this?” he asked, and the vendor glanced dismissively at the bracelet.

 

“Surely you do not want such a plain item?” he asked, gesturing with large hands to his other wares, “surely there is something else, something finer a man like you would prefer to present to his lady…?”

 

“It’s not for a lady,” Thor told him bluntly, and grinned at the wide-eyed look on the man’s face. The man floundered for a few moments, before stuttering out a price. Not a high price; Thor realised why the man had been encouraging him to buy something a little more decorated. Thor paid the full price, and grinned as he slipped away into the crowd, sliding the bracelet into his pouch. He decided to wait a little before giving it to Loki.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which things happen, and happen fast.
> 
> ...
> 
> A little too fast, really.

Thor paced back and forth, a few metres into the woods. He told himself he wasn’t anxiously awaiting Loki’s return. The glamour Loki had placed on him had long since faded, leaving him exposed to recognition, but he felt he was far enough into the woods that it hardly mattered; they would not search the woods aimlessly, and he had not left a trail for them to follow more precisely.

 

In the end Thor was distracted enough by over-embellished imaginings of what fate had befallen Loki that he did not even notice the approaching figure until there was a hand on his shoulder, making him jump violently.

 

“Oh by Jotunheim, calm down,” Loki groaned, having jumped himself in reaction to Thor’s sudden movement. “It’s just me. No need to scream like you’re a five-year-old.”

 

“I didn’t scream,” Thor argued, although his relief overtook any anger as he grasped Loki by the arms, peering at his face. The normally blue-skinned male still had the remnants of a glamour clinging to him, brown threading through his hair, and a strange shape curving his face in unfamiliar ways. But the red eyes were his, and the glimmer of gold was showing through across his brow. “It is good to see you, Loki. I’m glad you’re back, even if you do not look entirely yourself.”

 

“The glamour I used for myself is a lot stronger than the one I used for you,” Loki said absently, fingers coming up to peel at the unfamiliar features, tearing them away as if they were cobwebs, to reveal his true features beneath. “Since I had to be a little more…hands on, shall we say? Pursuing information requires far more direct interaction than procuring food.” The last of the glamour was gone, and Thor’s lip twitched upwards at the sight of wavy black hair, absently reaching up to fiddle with one of the gold beads.

 

“I am glad you have no further use for it,” he said, “I far prefer this form to any other you could imagine for yourself.” Loki’s cheeks flushed dark blue at that, and he battered Thor’s hand away fussily with his own, fiddling with his hair.

 

“We need to move further into the woods,” he said finally, “You will need a fire, and the further in we are the less likely we are to be noticed.” He said this like Thor hadn’t already worked that out, and was pouting because he’d considered himself already far enough in, and bent to pick up a couple of the parcels of food. Thor took the others, and they found a place to make camp and settle down. Thor built a small fire quickly, Loki lighting it with a wave of glowing fingers before Thor had a chance to. The Jotun only smirked when Thor turned to look at him questioningly.

 

They divided up rolls and cheese to eat, as Thor skinned and prepared a rabbit he had caught. It was all quite companionable really, compared to the first awkward night. Despite their sitting apart from one another, Thor close to the fire for warmth and Loki a little further back for the cool night air the tension had drained from the air. The silence was present once again, but it was calm this time, thoughtful rather than stressed. Thor leant back, allowing his gaze to fall on Loki, admiring him and his shimmering skin, as he hadn’t had a real chance to until this point. Suddenly there was a low laugh, and Thor’s gaze shifted to meet Loki’s amused eyes, lips quirked into a miniscule smile. “Like what you see?” Loki echoed his own words from the previous night, the hard edge disappearing from them so they now resembled light teasing, not a scathing remark designed to bite. It was prompt enough for Thor to return the smile, edging a little closer to his companion.

 

“Indeed I do,” he spoke honestly, and Loki’s smile widened, a little delighted at the response. “I’m almost glad you hid them away today,” Thor joked a little, referencing the tattoos “I want to keep such a wonderful sight to myself,” he continued, not entirely sure that he was just talking about the tattoos now. Loki’s smile faltered, however, his gaze downcast. Thor matched his expression, words turning serious too. “…Were you able to find anything out? They must have explained why they wanted us, did they not?” he asked, curious and eager in a way that made him sick to his stomach to hear the answer.

 

“Well that’s just the thing,” Loki huffed, brows furrowed together. “According to a group of gamblers, two fugitives were being tracked down for an assault on the Lady Frigga.”

 

“But neither of us ever-“ Thor began, but Loki cut him off,

 

“According to the barmaid in the tavern, the two criminals were being chased because they had stolen from the vaults of Asgard.” Loki’s voice was toneless now, deadpan. “Or perhaps they had sabotaged the horse that Balder was supposed to be travelling on, or they tried to disrupt the Apple Ceremony. There are no two tales that coincide.”

 

“So all we know for sure is that they are not revealing the real reason?” Thor summarised softly, his own brow matching Loki’s. “The Apple Ceremony…” he mused. “You know, that is the reason I was in the forest that day at all. I had…” he flushed suddenly, ducking his head down. Great, he was basically inviting Loki to ask why the Ceremony had caused him to go running through the woods, and Thor would have to try and explain his sick feelings when it came to watching it. Steve, Tony and Bruce found his aversion weird enough, and they were far from many of the utterly fanatic supporters who actually made it their life’s ambition to see every ceremony live.

 

When Loki turned to face him however, with a slow rotation of his head, his expression was unfathomable. “The Ceremony?” he echoed lightly. “That…” he paused for a moment, before continuing to speak, “…that was my reason for being in the woods too. Normally I watch with everyone else, but I…this time I didn’t even stay to see it. I actually live far on the other side of these forests,” Loki indicated vaguely with his hand, “I had already been running for quite some time before we collided. Normally I at least sit through the ceremony, but…” he pulled a face, “the stench of the apples were just too much. That, and staring at everyone’s gormless faces as they stared up at the screen…they were so pathetic, I just wanted to-“

 

“Wait, what?” Thor interrupted. “What did you say?”

 

Loki frowned at him, “that people are gormless idiots who-“

 

“No, not that,” Thor hastily interrupted again, “The apples. What you said about the apples.”

 

Loki was still for a moment, before he pulled a face. “Oh. The apples. They smell revolting, and the stench is apparent from a mile off. Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who stares at the apples, drooling over them, wanting to have just a bite, just a lick…?”

 

“No,” Thor said quietly, halting Loki’s increasingly mocking words, “No I’m not. They have never smelt anything but rotten to me.” Loki’s face remained smooth and impassive, but the subtle flicking back and forth of his red eyes, the slight crease in the forehead told Thor that Loki was thinking about his words very hard indeed. “Is that why they want us?” He asked, although he expected no answer. It seemed the only reason, but it was too strange, too empty a reason. Loki could not fill in the details, the reasoning behind such an answer. Quite besides anything else, they couldn’t have a way of being able to tell whom the apples smelt bad to. If the matter were really that simple, they would have discovered the pair’s mutual dislike for the apples long ago.

 

“I do not know,” Loki said finally, and, to both their surprise, stood up and moved to sit directly beside Thor, flopping down to rest his head on Thor’s shoulder.

 

“…Loki…?” Thor asked quietly, and received only the rusting of black hair as a response as the Jotun shifted slightly, gold in his hair glittering in the light of the fire.

 

“I’m tired,” he murmured, “I’m tired, I’ve used a lot of magic, and you’re comfier than you have any right to be,” his tone was less accusing than it might have been, and instead left a strangely warm, fuzzy feeling in Thor’s stomach. Tentatively, Thor brought up his hand, gently touching it to Loki’s hair, and making soothing stroking motions. Loki let out a little sigh at the attention, a satisfied, content sigh, and Thor could feel his heart thumping again. This was weird. They barely knew each other. Yet, looking down at Loki, he couldn’t help but feel like they’d known each other for years. As though this moment was the culmination of much, much time spent as friends, companions, always dancing on the precipice of being something more, but never quite tipping into it.

 

Looking down at Loki, curled against him even more and practically purring as Thor stroked his hair, Thor decided that this was a precipice he would not mind falling over the edge of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Thor, your first guess was right, the royals just really really hate people who don't like apples. |D


	6. Sophia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _You, with your newborn eyes,  
>  Have you ever loved a man like I love him?  
> Do you hurt but still feel alive, like never before?  
> Oh, Sophia._

_The Jotun was incredibly beautiful. Somehow the smaller breed, rather than being ostracised by both those their own size though of other species, or by full-sized Jotuns, they had become something elegant and admired. Their kind was not necessarily sought after, but they had become appreciated when they appeared._

_And this Jotun, Loki thought admiringly, exemplified the reason his kind was slowly growing in popularity. Sitting on several large silk cushions, with muscular arms decorated with gold and jewels, and skin a rich, rich blue. He was at the larger end of the small giants, well-muscled and clearly in excellent shape. His facial features were attractive enough to look at, but it was blindingly obvious why this frost giant, out of so many, was so desired and so admired._

_His hair, allowed to grow far down his back and so far reaching his waist, was a beautiful, striking pale blonde. Not silver or sleety grey colour, as some ice maidens’ hair was, but genuine golden blonde, with strands of metallic silver woven through it and a silver headdress crowning him and so holding it back from his face._

_People seemed content to simply sit and stare at him and at the long waves that spilt over his shoulders and across his chest. Some, who slipped over obscene amounts of money, dared to reach forward to run their fingers through it, eyes wide and shining._

_The Jotun, for his part, showed little to no interest in anyone who shared his company. He was friendly enough, and had a smile that came easily, but that didn't reach his eyes in genuine delight._

_Until Loki finally scraped together the coins to spend time with him. He had been eating when Loki first entered the room, and barely glanced over. Loki stood silent and patient, content to watch the movement of sleek blue shoulders and back moving up and down, perhaps it was not entirely out of politeness that he was waiting for the Jotun to finish._

_The Jotun finally turned, and Loki was shocked as crimson eyes opened wide, and the Jotun stared at Loki in the way that so many people had previously stared at him._

_In awe._

_Besotted._

_As though he'd never seen anything so beautiful._

_As though, if he had Loki, he would never,_ could _never want for anything else._

_Loki may have been mildly attractive but he was hardly the exquisite sample the one before him was. Midgardian, short black hair and green eyes were hardly defining features._

_And yet for the first time it was the frost giant to make the first move, rising to meet him, bejewelled fingers outstretched._

_"Who are you?" a deep voice breathed, and Loki shivered at the sudden familiarity._

_"The call me Loki," he replied, and was that rasping sound really his usually smooth voice? "And you?"_

_"They call me many names to entice the crowds," came the murmur in return. “I have so many names, I lose track of what they choose to call me next and so I would not know what to tell you.” The small giant retreated his hands, tugging his hair forward over his shoulder, weaving it absently as his eyes stayed locked with Loki’s. Loki had never before know someone able to make braiding a seductive art but he did so, and it took Loki a few moments to gather both his voice and his thoughts._

_"Then what do you call yourself?" Loki asked._

_"What I call myself...and indeed, what I would delight in gearing you call me...is Thor. I am Thor." Long blue fingers slid away from golden strands, red eyes wide, breathing shallow. Thor leant forward, towards the immobilised Loki, stretching out a lined hand towards him._

_His fingers met Loki’s cheek, and the electricity shot through them._

 

~

 

Loki's eyes snapped open, and he shot up. His gaze moved down immediately, taking in his dusky skin, the golden tattoos. He reached up to his hair, still long and reaching over his shoulders, not cropped short at the neck. He turned to Thor, still lying beside him. Loki’s movements were slow, fearful, before he took in the pale skin, flushed slightly even in sleep.

 

Midgardian. Not Jotun. Loki felt like breathing a sigh of relief but didn't know what for. He reached down close to Thor, although ready to jump away should Thor seek to make a teddy bear of him again.

 

Loki traced his fingers lightly across Thor's face, mapping out where just seconds ago he had seen faint lines scored into blue skin. Loki abruptly remembered the night before, leaning into Thor and feeling the soothing sensation of gentle fingers across his scalp, eliciting a sensation of comfort and…and _belonging_ , that Loki hadn’t felt in a very long time, if ever. If only it wasn’t accompanied by ever-increasingly strange dreams he would be enjoying it a lot more. As it was, the closeness he felt to Thor was honestly scaring him a little, as his mind wrestled between ‘ _two days! Only two days, you cannot possibly be feeling like this after just two days!’_ and ‘ _you feel as if you’ve known him for so much longer than that, there’s no one else in this realm you feel so close to and so easy around, there is no one else you could have been so intimate with as you were last night.’_ Loki's hand moved down, across Thor’s face gently, until he was cupping his stubbly jaw and suddenly, blue eyes were blinking up at him sleepily.

 

"Loki...?" He asked with a yawn, stretching slightly before leaning into Loki’s touch and making him blush. "What are you doing?"

 

"Wondering what you'd look like with long hair," Loki replied, in the most honest way he knew to be interpreted as lies. Indeed Thor let out a snort, eyebrow cocked.

 

"Like a girl, probably," he laughed. "An ugly girl, with a beard. Why, do you plan to cast a spell on me whilst I sleep so I end up with hair to the floor?"

 

This time it was Loki who looked disbelievingly at Thor. "You come up with the strangest ideas," he scolded, removing his hand from Thor's cheek and eliciting a whine of protest. "Get up. You said we were close to your friends, correct?"

 

“Ah, yes. Yes I did,” Thor agreed, picking himself up completely from the ground. He waited until Loki had twisted away, before scrambling in his pouch. When he caught sight of the flash of gold there, he sighed in relief, before turning his gaze to Loki. Was now a good time, he wondered. He had wanted to wait for a good moment to give it to Loki but frankly, in the mess that had become his life, he wasn’t even sure what a good moment would be. And he was impatient to see Loki’s reaction to his gift…

 

“Thor? What are you doing?” Loki was suddenly calling, and Thor realised his companion had wandered off without him.

 

“Coming,” he called out in response, slinging his bag over his shoulder. Loki rolled his eyes, turning around to face the edge of the forest, foot tapping and arms swinging by his sides as he waited for Thor to catch up.

 

Thor jogged forward, stepping up behind Loki, the bracelet clasped in his hands tightly. Reaching forward, he hooked his chin over Loki’s shoulder cheekily, nuzzling the slightly shorter man as he slid the bracelet over his wrist, the Jotun too distracted fending off the blonde head that had suddenly appeared to torment him to notice its sudden appearance.

 

“What in the Nine Realms are you playing at?” Loki asked snappishly, flapping his hands at Thor, only to notice the gold glittering at his wrist, and his arm froze in front of his face as he stared at it. Thor backed up a few steps, ducking his head almost shyly as Loki stared, almost disbelievingly at the bracelet.

 

“…What is this…?” he finally strangled the words out of his throat, his second hand coming up to fiddle with the bracelet gingerly, twisting it around to observe the engravings on it. The fact that he wasn’t taking it off filled Thor with hope.

 

“It’s a gift. I saw the gold and thought of you. Your tattoos in particular.” Thor confessed, seeking out the golden gleams on Loki’s skin.

 

“And why…pray tell…are you giving me gifts?” Loki asked, the words long and drawn out as they were punctuated with deep breaths.

 

“Because…well, that’s because I…I _like_ you,” Thor stumbled a little over his words, self-conscious before one so eloquent, and right at that moment looking like he wanted to flee even more than when they first met.

 

“…’like’…” Loki repeated in a mutter, his fingers clutching at the bracelet. For a second the breath hitched in Thor’s throat, fearful that Loki was about to toss it away, but instead the Jotun clutched it tighter, his face scrunching up with emotion.

 

“No, more than ‘like’,” Thor protested earnestly, immediately, moving forward to grab Loki by the hands, “Loki, I know we haven’t known each other long…and it hasn’t been the best circumstances, but…but I think, no…I _know_ I’m in lo-“

 

“Oh by the Nine,” Loki choked out in a laugh, looking, of all things, pitying towards him, “Thor, please, don’t do this now, I don’t think I can cope if you-“

 

“No, Loki, I have to say this! I _love_ you, and I’m not going to stop until you know and accept that!” Thor declared in a fit of passion, crushing Loki to his chest in a bruising hug.

 

Loki let out a cry of anger, thumped against Thor’s chest a few times to try and free himself, before abruptly breaking down into sobs. Upon hearing the utterly unexpected noise, Thor immediately released his grip on Loki, holding him gingerly by the shoulders, he peered into the Jotun’s face.

 

“Loki?” he said swiftly, frantically, “Loki are you well? Did I hurt you? I’m sorry, I did not mean to-“

 

“You oaf,” Loki cut across him, and Thor’s mouth slammed shut. “You utter fool. You have no idea what you bring upon yourself when you say those words.” Loki was staring at him helplessly, before his expression took upon a certain quality of calm, and distress. Loki took a breath, before beginning to speak, low and soothing, "We've know each other for a matter of days," Loki murmured, and Thor could have sworn it sounded more like he was convincing himself, "only a few days. You- you do not know me nearly well enough to even consider that you might..." Loki floundered; unable to speak the word Thor had himself just spoken aloud.

 

Thor paused at Loki's words. He spoke nothing but the truth. Two days had passed, two days since they had crashed in the woods, two days since Loki had grasped his hand as they ran, and they had not stopped running since.

 

Thor could understand that his own feelings were unreasonable, could understand that it was far too soon to have developed such feelings. But he was Thor, and if there was one thing he knew above all else, it was that he knew and trusted his feelings, and that they had never lied to him before. They would not lie now, and they spoke whenever his gaze fell on Loki, tall and slender and gilded with the fruits of his accomplishments in the runes that lined his skin. Thor didn't know how, and he wasn't sure at times quite why; but he trusted his feelings. And his feelings told him he loved the man before him.

 

"Alright," he said quietly, locking gazes with Loki, "I won't say it again. I'd like to, but I do not want to drive you away." He stepped forward; tapping his fingers against the gift he had just bestowed, "do not consider it a declaration, if that would distress you. But, if you can..." Callused fingers slid from the metal to around Loki's wrist. "Consider that it is a promise. I don't know how long it will take, but I want you to at least find it in yourself to believe me, if not...reciprocate...if that takes time, I will wait. I can be patient, especially if it is for you. So I promise you this. I will not speak another word on my feelings, but they will remain all the same. And I will wait for your answer, whatever that answer may be."

 

Loki gazed up at him, eyes wide, mouth hanging slightly open. The was a sob lurking in his throat that he fought to hold back, pushing forward against Thor's chest in a hug to hide his face. Despite this, the hand coming up around Loki's shoulders was comforting, but no more than that. Another vision rose unwelcomed into Loki's mind, of a Thor that towered over him, whom he had to crane his neck to look in his eyes. Of an embrace much like this, engulfed by warmth and affection. And Loki found he could only echo the words spoken then as he pressed against the golden haired man,

 

"Oh Thor. You really are the biggest, sweetest idiot in the whole nine realms." He spoke the words muffled in the embrace, and wished they had come from his own heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos to anyone who can tell me where Loki's final words are from, haha.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki starts to form theories about just what's happening to him and Thor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally part of the last chapter, but I decided to split it over two. :'3

They moved on quickly, Thor convinced that it was not too far a distance until they reached his friends, but it would still take a day’s travel. It was once again silent between them, and Loki wasn’t able to tell whether it was uncomfortable for Thor or not. But judging by the way Thor kept close to him, close enough that their fingers continually brushed together until Loki took pity of the not very subtle efforts and simply gripped Thor’s fingers tightly in his own, it could not have been that awkward. Loki could have blamed Thor, he supposed, for the strange dreams and feelings, but against all odds he found he did not. Thor was so open, so warm, he found himself unable to dislike him. He could be a little dense at time, perhaps oblivious…but he was sweet, he was kind, and brave. This much Loki didn’t need strange memories and the sensations of déjà vu to know about Thor.

 

He did wonder about the dreams, however. Succumbing to his feelings, albeit only privately, allowed him to think a little clearer about the origins of his dreams. There were spells, he thought, that could work their way into the minds of victims and make them see all kinds of strange things. But Loki knew spells, and he knew spell casters, and he could see no reason why a sorcerer or witch would cast such a spell on him. _That woman_ might do something to mess with his head out of spite, but Loki knew her magic well and felt certain that he would have at least recognised it, if not already removed its influence from his body. Besides, Thor was tied into this too, and _she_ didn’t know him. Someone who only knew one of them couldn’t have woven a spell with details of the both of them.

 

Which, in fact, ruled out a fair number of people. They lived on opposite sides of the forest; their overlap of acquaintances couldn’t be that big, if it existed at all. It had all started when they had made contact. Crashing into each other hadn’t been it, Loki realised upon scrutinising the memory intensely. He knew exactly when it was, because he could still feel the echo of pain in his wrist from where Thor’s hand had crushed his own into the ground, twisting it backwards even as the lighting sensation had passed through them, and causing him to cry out. He had almost frozen Thor’s fingers off for that, and would have done if not for the secondary overwhelming sensation and the adrenaline it had caused to fly through them both.

 

So that had been the moment. Physical contact had been established between them, and something had been triggered. Something that brought memories neither of them could have actually experienced, feelings long past, details and knowledge of each other. The sensations of static and electric adrenaline had faded over time at least; through their fingers were linked now, the contact brought about none of the sensations it had, even as far back as in the market.

 

But then of course, there were the utterly bizarre details, which Loki couldn’t begin to explain. Such as pale skin wrapped around his own flesh and bones, and Thor…Loki looked up at him, studying his features from the side, Thor in blue and gold, fat jewels and dangling teardrops of shining stones dripping from his ears and fair, fair hair. Where could that have possibly come from? It was something that seemed to belong to an entire other life.

 

_An entire_

_Other_

_Life_

 

Loki suddenly froze in his steps, jerking Thor back unintentionally as their linked hands kept Thor back, linked as they were. Distantly, Loki could hear Thor asking what was wrong, rearranging their fingers unconsciously so their fingers were linked, intertwined, utterly connected, blue pressed up vibrantly against warm, flushed tan. _Another life_ , Loki’s mind repeated, the phrase echoing in his head. A separate life, before this one, where they could have met before, and where any of these things could have been possible. Where Loki may have been born human, or Thor Jotun, or any number of things. _Perhaps, even,_ Loki mused as he muttered something meaningless to an unconvinced Thor as they continued on their way again, _perhaps even a crime, that would cause those who had lived an eternity unchanging and always watching to seek and hunt them down. Even after such a crime had been forgotten._ Loki’s mind was racing as the new implications begun to sink in to his mind. He wondered if he should tell Thor, whether Thor would even believe him. He didn’t know if Thor had been having the same kinds of dreams, surely he would have mentioned it, if so?

 

A thought struck him; maybe Loki was the one remembering because he had magic. That was only wild speculation though, there was any number of reasons why he had remembered and not Thor, and of course it was entirely possible that Thor had remembered something and forgotten, as Loki was sure he had done a few times, the memories growing stronger and stronger with time. Or maybe this was the one thing Thor was able keep secret, and was keeping hidden from Loki. Then again, Loki realised that he couldn’t imagine Thor keeping anything secret. Especially something that would answer the questions the both of them had been asking since they had first collided.

 

If he wasn’t keeping it secret however, he must not be remembering anything. And if he didn’t remember, then maybe it was simply all in Loki’s mind. Maybe Loki was just going crazy.

 

“Loki,” came Thor’s gentle voice, and Loki was pulled away from of his slowly spiralling thoughts as the two men stopped, before a house. Loki hadn’t even realised he’d left the forest, and felt disoriented as he tried to focus on the house. Instead, his attention eventually landed on Thor, solid, comforting Thor, who despite everything had remained so thankfully unchanging. “This is my friends’ house,” Thor told him in response to Loki’s confused expression. “We’ll be safe here.”

 

Loki just nodded mutely, turning slowly to the house. Uncertainty was swimming in his mind, making everything at once cloudy and yet far too sharp; worries and fear of the future slicing through half-thought plans and theories. Loki clung to Thor like an anchor, and for the first time placed his trust completely in the other man, as they stepped towards the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are much loved. (:


	8. Staying with the Avengers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki becomes acquainted with Thor's home, and we learn a little more of his friends.

Thor was the one to knock, Loki still holding his hand, only now it seemed to have turned more into a death grip. Were he less panicked, Loki might had realised that he was being ridiculous, and more than likely freaking Thor out severely. But he refused to let go, even to satisfy his own pride, as Thor knocked on the door, and quickly enough it opened, to reveal a large blonde man behind it. Loki strained to remember the names Thor had told him, and one rose to his mind: _Steve_. Thor had said, perhaps in joking or not, Loki couldn’t remember, that he may have æsir blood. Taking in the large muscles, glowingly blonde hair and blue eyes, Loki was inclined to believe they may be right.

 

“Thor?” Steve exclaimed upon seeing the other blonde, before his eyes turned to Loki, “And…a friend?” he added on, curiously. “Weren’t you in the woods? Did you meet there?”

 

“Steve, I’m happy to answer all your questions,” Thor told him, glancing back and feeling the tightening grip of Loki’s hand, “but it would be best if we were to discuss it inside, please. Things have happened that mean it is not best for either of us,” he indicated himself and Loki, “to be out in the open.” Steve’s face creased with worry at Thor’s words, but he stepped aside, gesturing for them to enter.

 

“Yes, please come in, we-“

 

“Steve? Who are you talking to, has Thor wandered back at last?” Tony’s voice cut across Steve’s as he wandered into the room, scratching his sleep-tousled hair with one hand. The other hand, Loki noticed with momentary shock, was not there. More than that, there was no arm, nor elbow, and even a large part of the man’s shoulder missing. From underneath the tank top he was wearing, Loki could see metal plating covering the right part of his chest, and surrounding a glowing object in the centre of his chest.

 

 _Ahh._ Now _that_ Loki could remember _._

 

“Tony,” Came Steve’s scandalised cry, as he took in the sight of the genius. “Where’s your arm? What have I told you about having all body parts in place whilst we have guests in the house?”

 

“Steve, you are not my mother, so why do you persist in acting like you are?” Tony complained, glancing around their house with little enthusiasm, apparently unconcerned about the lack of second arm. “Well, I can’t see it,” he said pointlessly, shooting Steve a ‘ _what you going to do about it_ ’ look.

 

“Oh God, don’t tell me you’ve lost it _again_.” Steve groaned, pressing his face into his palms. Thor, meanwhile, had rolled his eyes and made his way to a sofa, used to the squabbling, discarding his bag and his axes on a stand beside the door. Loki remained where he was, staring incredulously at the blonde and brunette before him, memories dancing across his eyes. The pounding started in his head once again, but somehow it was far less painful than any of the other memories he had so far regained. This…what he was seeing and feeling now was the closest to a pleasant memory he had so far experienced. He wondered just what it was that was causing the difference.

 

He was flooded with sudden happiness, and for the first time in several days did not mind the smattering of memories, earthly things that they were of Thor’s companions, or the group he had once been a part of, and of his first mortal friends, of Selvig, Darcy…and Jane. In the end, of all the people Thor could have encountered from his previous life (because Loki was quite certain that his theory was correct), Loki was happy that it was these three. He supposed Thor would have been equally happy and safe had he met with Jane once again in this life, but Loki was and always would be a jealous creature. He would much prefer Thor to be spending his time in the company of his old earth comrades than in the company of a woman who, no matter how much Thor half-heartedly protested, Loki knew he had loved, at least for a few days. After all, Thor’s love for him was only a couple of days old, and the part of Loki that was about to squash down his fears of rejection knew that his love was real, and true.

 

Tony, meanwhile, was ignoring Steve, his gaze instead focusing in on Loki’s still form with some interest. “Did Thor drag you back home with him??” he asked curiously, and without precursor. Loki’s eyes swivelled around to meet his.

 

“I’d hardly call it _dragging_ ,” Loki responded, “but I did come here with Thor. Why, does he have a habit of bringing home strays?” he raised an eyebrow, and Tony laughed,

 

“Not so far. That’s usually Steve, and usually only cats. You’d be the first humanoid creature to be brought home.” Tony looked like he was about to continue, but was distracted as a third voice called out, and they both turned to see a second brunette, who had apparently been rummaging around the sofa where Thor had just been sitting, and was holding a metallic arm shaped piece of machinery, the sight of which made Tony let of a cry of delight.

 

“Bruce, you’re fantastic,” he said enthusiastically, and the brunette, Bruce, smiled a little at the praise, flushing when Tony threw a one armed hug around him, which Loki watched with curiosity, before his eyes were diverted to Thor. Steve had evidently given up on Tony, in a manner that suggested this was a somewhat regular occurrence, and had instead moved to stand with his fellow blonde, both of them speaking in hushed tones. Loki wondered if Thor was telling Steve all about being on the run. He also wondered if Steve would blame Thor, or Loki, if he would blame anyone at all. He attempted to have a fresh view of Steve, to sift through the jumble of images in order to see him as though meeting him for the first time. The memories, far from being helpful and showing to him from what point he might approach Steve to gain the best response, instead only confused and weighed down his mind, to the point where Loki would prefer to be left ignorant. Then suddenly, pulling him from his thoughts was a voice beside him, and he turned to find the two brunettes at his side.

 

“Want to watch?” Tony asked, not cheerfully, but something close to it. Loki’s expression was one of confusion, his brow wrinkling and the scientist laughed. “Watch Bruce putting my arm back on. Would you like to see? Thor watched once, but it was too much for him to handle,” Tony shot a mischievous grin at Loki, who grinned in return when he heard Thor’s noise of protest in the background, obviously having been aware enough to pick up on Tony’s words.

 

“By all means, I would love to outdo Thor in such a small matter as this,” Loki laughed, moving forward to follow Bruce and Tony through to a chair which had apparently been set up for just this task, the armrest on the side of the missing limb had been removed, and in its place was a moveable desk-like attachment already with several tools resting on it, a screwdriver and several bolts. Tony threw himself down into the chair, Bruce pulling up a stool beside it. Loki looked around for another seat,

 

“You can always sit on my lap,” Tony suggested with a flirtatious grin, but laughed off Loki’s offended look good-naturedly. “There’s more stools,” he gestured to them and Loki was quick to pull on up, studying the arm that had been placed on the desk, fascinated to see it. He had thought it plain from a distance, functional and nothing more. Up close, he could see that along parts of it decoration had been carved. It reminded him a little of the bracelet around his wrist, but these designs were much bolder, much bigger than the miniscule delicacy of the marking on the gold. Tony saw him looking, “Steve did that. He kept stealing bits of metal from my bench and practising on them until he thought he could do it well. He’s used to paper.” Tony’s smile was soft, and Loki pondered, both the art and the smile. So they did care about each other, despite the bickering. Perhaps a little like himself and Thor.

 

“It’s beautiful,” he commented, “not just the engraving. The arm itself…it’s magnificent. A magnificent creation.” Tony’s lips quirked again at Loki’s compliment, the same as before, not quite happy but not quite…not. Pain quickly overtook his expression however, as Bruce, who had been lining the metal shoulder up to the plating covering Tony’s torso, had clicked it into place, causing a hiss from both the mechanisms within and from Tony. Bruce quirked his eyebrow at Tony in response to the reproachful look he received from the mechanic.

 

“What? You’re always better about it when you’re distracted. I wasn’t going to waste the opportunity by asking you,” Bruce told him, smiling slightly as he cautiously screwed in a couple of bolts, with the air of one who had done it many times before, but had no real inclination towards it, before twisting the joint part of the machine. “Rotate please?” he asked and Tony obliged, Loki watching in fascination as, even with Bruce’s fingers removed, the metal began to twist in a circle. Bruce seemed satisfied with the result, picking up the arm and once again lining it up. “I don’t expect a dramatic reaction when I attach this either,” Bruce warned Tony, who played the ever-suffering role, rolling his eyes and zipping his lips shut ever as Loki saw him tense in preparation. “One…two…” Bruce left off number three, instead attaching the limb with the same hiss from the machine as before, and what Loki was sure Tony would deny being a whimper came from the mechanic. “Final checks,” Bruce declared and Tony sat forward extending the arm in front of him and apparently checking each joint in turn, shoulder once again, the elbow, wrist, down to the fingers…

 

“You have so much control…” Loki breathed out wonderingly. “It…truly is remarkable.” _How did you make it?_ Why _did you make it?_ Those were the questions hanging in the air between them, heavy on Loki’s tongue, but even he knew when sometimes it wasn’t ok to pry. Tony was silent as he picked up a tablet in the metal hand, holding it gently as he ran his flesh fingertips over the screen, activating it and scrolling down a list of figures.

 

“It was in the last war,” Tony said simply, responding to the unasked questions floating in the air, still fiddling with his tablet. “I…did some work for one side, and got caught up in a bombing by the other.” He rubbed his metal arm absently, as if there were still nerves there to feel the sensations. “Not only did it take out my entire arm, it also ended with me needing part of my leg muscles replaced with an artificial substitute, and resulted in metal floating around my bloodstream. Luckily Bruce and Steve kept me alive long enough for me to fix myself,” he laughed, humourlessly, eyes finally meeting Loki’s. Loki returned his gaze miserable, before down casting his eyes.

 

“I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve all that,” he murmured; reaching out to press his fingers against the metal of Tony’s shoulder, fingers trailing across to run along the seam, long ugly scars stretching out from underneath it. Tony gave him a curious look.

 

“You’ve never met me before. I could deserve it more than any other person in the Nine Realms.” He said mildly, and Loki met his eyes without trouble. Out of all the things he knew, of all the things that plagued his mind and confused him so, this was not one of them.

 

“No one deserves to have their very body ripped to shreds for a war not their own.” Loki said firmly, and Tony raised an eyebrow at him, but said nothing more. Standing, he tossed the tablet back to the chair and grabbed Bruce by the hand, tugging him out of his.

 

“I’m going back to my workshop, do you want to see my-“

 

“Tony, I need to talk to you.” Tony’s invitation, which Loki sincerely hoped was an invitation to see his workspace and nothing more, was interrupted as Steve entered the room, looking slightly shaken, but overall composed. Thor lagged behind him a bit, but his eyes immediately sought out and landed on Loki, who relaxed at the sight of him, in equal measures to the discomfort Steve’s stance was causing him, not to mention his ominous words. “You too Bruce,” he was saying now, although his eyes lingered on Loki for a moment. Loki braced himself for anger or suspicion but to his great surprise found none, only a kind of intense protective feeling stretching out to his friends. Steve would not lash out at him, but he would defend his.

 

Loki could respect that. The Jotun inclined his head to Tony and Bruce, “perhaps another time,” in response to Tony’s hopefully innocent question, before he slunk back across the room to Thor. “How was it?” he asked as they made their way back into the main living area of the house, standing beside the sofa as Thor collapsed back down into it. “well?” Loki pressed again when Thor didn’t respond, only looking back up at Loki in order to spread his arms wide in some kind of invitation to join him on the sofa. Loki sat down neatly beside him, ignoring the circle of arms and Thor’s resulting pout.

 

“It’s fine,” Thor told him, finally giving Loki the answers he wanted when it was clear that Loki would do nothing until he knew. “Steve is happy for us to stay here, and I know Tony and Bruce will have no problem with it either. Loki, it’s going to be ok. We’ll be ok here.” Thor’s look turned a shade concerned, “Loki, you don’t need to hold your breath anymore.”

 

Loki hadn’t known he’d been holding it. But at Thor’s command it had emerged, a long exhale of breath, turning into a shudder at the end, and bathing Thor in a chill breeze. The blonde shivered, looking at Loki again carefully. Red eyes met blue.

 

“We’re really going to be ok?” Loki asked, softly, and Thor wordlessly opened his arms again, this time Loki taking the invitation and leant into Thor’s embrace, pressed against his side and head against Thor’s shoulder. Thor’s arms came around him and he puzzled over the shaking of Loki’s shoulders under his grip, the strange shudder that he couldn’t quite place.

 

“We’ve going to be ok,” Thor whispered.


	9. Explosions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I've fallen from grace_  
>  Took a blow to my face  
> I've loved and I've lost  
> I've loved and I've lost
> 
>  
> 
> _Explosions...on the day you wake up_  
>  Needing somebody and you've learned  
> It's okay to be afraid  
> But it will never be the same

And Loki had honestly believed it would be okay. For a little while he had been able to honestly believe those words, to hid himself in Thor’s presence and away from the outside world, playing house and telling himself that it didn’t matter that there were guards searching for them, they would be safe here in the hands of friends. Thor’s friends.

 

Yet despite this forced optimism, somewhere deep inside him, Loki realised it couldn’t last like this forever. Kept hidden away in the residence of Thor’s friends, playing house or damn near with Thor’s circling each other for four wonderful long weeks. Loki had been cheating fate. Weaving spells daily and nightly, spells to block dreams, spells to repress memories, the most abstract and complex he could think of in order to push back any more remberings that might come his way. He didn’t know what it was, but something told him that there were more to come, and that once he had remembered those, there would be no going back for him. Maybe even for Thor as well.

 

Instead he plunged himself headfirst into something he had never really tried before; making friends. There had only been two people in his life who had ever been close enough to be friends before, one of them he loathed with every fibre of his being, the other was so sweet and loving that Loki felt immediately guilty just by being in her presence, regardless of whether he’d done something wrong or not. Bruce, Tony, and even Steve were different to that.

 

He and Bruce immediately fell into an easy, comfortably quiet relationship, often speaking quietly over tablets filled with documents and stories, on topics ranging from magic and runes to the differences in anatomy between a Midgardian and an Asgardian. Tony Loki found was the best candidate to sharpen his wit against, verbal battles often escalating to new heights as Tony invented and tinkered and Loki watched from the side-lines, often invading his working space and moving everything so it was an adventure every day for Tony to locate his projects. Tony called it a pain. Loki called it tidying. Thor, who had only heard half the conversation, asked weren’t those two the same thing?

 

Steve still didn’t trust him. Loki was sure of it. Regardless of Steve allowing Loki to hide in the house along with Thor, the Jotun was certain beyond doubt that Steve still looked at him with suspicion, narrowed eyes that could see him as the only reasonable explanation for the guards to be after Thor. Loki didn’t blame him.

 

He often blamed himself.

 

Whenever he did, Thor would manage to gravitate towards him, taking him aside and distracting him from his worries. He didn’t know how Thor did it, but the blonde seemed to have suddenly developed the ability to sense Loki’s emotions from a room away, always appearing the second he started to sink into depression or worry. Loki would be curled on the sofa, staring with narrowed eyes at the door, wondering how fast he would be able to run to distract any Einherjar away from the house, how many illusions he could generate as a distraction until he became exhausted and succumbed to capture –

 

Then suddenly Thor would be there, standing in the doorway, eyebrows raised at Loki. He didn’t always speak; sometimes they found it surprisingly easy to communicate without even needing to open their mouths.

 

‘ _Why are you staring into space like that?’_ Raised eyebrows.

 

‘ _…I’m not entirely sure.’_ Shrugged shoulders, wide eyes.

 

‘ _Liar.’_ Concerned frown.

 

 _‘…_ ’ A sigh, ‘ _I don’t want to be caught. I don’t want_ you _to be caught. I don’t want your friends to suffer because of us.’_

_‘_ Our _friends, Loki. They do not do this only for my sake.’_

 

‘ _You do not know that!’_ Wide eyes, disbelieving.

 

‘ _I do.’_ Firm gaze. Unwavering faith in his friends, and in Loki himself.

 

A weak smile, extended arms. Thor gladly returned Loki’s embrace, allowing the decorated being to pull him down onto the seat. Moments like this were becoming more frequent between them, but Thor tried to squash down the hope he was feeling. Loki’s feelings seemed fragile, worrying, and he reached out to Thor more and more, in a way he would never had in their first few days together. It was the stress, most likely. Loki and Thor had been thrown into something headfirst and had only each other to rely on. That was enough to force any two people together. Thor didn’t want that to be the only reason for them to be in a relationship, and neither did Loki.

 

But for Loki, since arriving at the house, as the spells began to take effect and push back the invasive memories, and Thor was there to help hold back the worries, Loki found himself falling for the blonde. Really, truly falling for him, in a way he wasn’t sure he would be able to with all the foreign feelings in his head. He wouldn’t say it out loud. There was something about saying it out loud that rubbed Loki the wrong way; this was something special and tiny but growing quickly and Loki knew he would have to say it eventually, but for now he kept it hidden inside, quiet in his mind.

 

That didn’t stop it from leaking over into his actions. Loki swore that Thor was rubbing off on him, perhaps even literally. The Jotun had never been a tactile person before, preferring to hide beneath his beloved cloak, concealing his body away from prying eyes and probing fingers. Being gripped by Thor in his sleep and even holding hands had been strange and unsettling, and something he didn’t think he’d ever grow used to. His cloak was now hung up by the door, and had been for a fortnight at least, brushing of hands with Thor and nudging of shoulders becoming frequent. Then the kisses began.

 

The first one had surprised Loki just as much as Thor. They had been sat together upon Loki’s temporary bed, Thor laughing loudly at the trick Loki had just pulled on Tony which had sent the two of them running to his room for safety against the irate mechanic. Loki’s grin had been close to splitting his face, and he drank in Thor’s features, so happy and relaxed, and his smile had drooped. His gaze had turned to something strange, and fascinated, as he reached out to press cool fingertips to Thor’s cheeks. The touch silenced Thor’s laughter, but Loki barely allowed him time to turn curious blue eyes towards him before he had guided their mouths together, pressing himself against Thor delicately.

 

Thor hadn’t responded for a moment, before he had pressed back, eagerly, taking Loki’s face in both his hands, feeling to Loki like he could engulf his entire head, his entire body with touch and heat. He had sunk against Thor, pressing them together for as long as he could before they had to part, breathing heavily. They had stared at each other for several long, long moments before Loki had leant forward, leaning his head against Thor’s shoulder so his long hair obscured his face. Thor rested his arms gently around Loki, not pulling him any closer, but still offering him comfort. Loki had no idea how he could be so patient. They still stayed in separate rooms, Thor in his original room, Loki tucked away in a temporary room in the roof of the house. Loki didn’t know how to progress the relationship, and Thor was being a near saint when it came to dealing with Loki’s strange whims and sensibilities.

 

Despite this patience, and their separate rooms, Loki would often wake in the middle of the night to find a warm body pressed against him, Thor’s beard tickling against his neck, or sometimes tucked under his chin as Thor wrapped his arms around Loki and curled in towards him. It was on those nights that Loki would silently raise his decorated arms, and weave every protective spell he knew over Thor casting golden light over his sleeping love and making him shine. Thor would press closer, and Loki would kiss him gently, without waking him, and allow himself to fall back to sleep.

 

Perhaps if Thor had been with him he would have been safe that night. The first night he had slept alone in weeks, suddenly became the night he died.

 

_“Thor- Thor! Stop, I can’t- can’t-“_

_“Loki, we must keep moving! I’m sorry but you must try!”_

_“I am trying, I am, but I…”_

_“Loki!”_

_A long red cape swept around Loki’s knees as Thor thudded down beside where he had fallen, the colours of the rainbow bridge – the bifrost – arms coming to grip his shoulders. Loki could feel the metal and fabric of his elaborate clothing digging into his arm. More elaborate than they had wished; situations had changed; they had been forced to act drastically. They had only just managed to discard their helmets, watching the metal objects, so representative of them, their characters and all they were discarding, tumble into the darkness of space._

_It had brought them both grim, heart-thumping satisfaction._

_They had come so close, so close to freedom they couldn’t fail now. But Loki’s breath was catching, as he clutched as his chest, feeling bile rise. “Thor, please,” he gasped out, “you can still… you can get past Heimdall, you can defeat him, and then, you can esca-“_

_“I will not go without you!” Thor hissed, furious that Loki would even suggest it. “Brother, we will go together. I stand by what I said. Do you remember, brother?” his gaze on Loki was steady, Loki slowly met it and they spoke in hesitant sync,_

_“We were raised together. We fought together, we played together.”_

_“We will always be together.” Thor assured him, burying a kiss in Loki’s hair, peppering them across his brow, and catching Loki’s lips._

_“Live together, die together,” Loki murmured as they pulled apart, and his gaze hardened with determination. “I will continue. I will cope.” He pushed himself up on shaky hands, gripping Thor’s arms. Thor clapped Loki’s reassuringly in return and they hurried on._

_They would make it. Loki was sure of it, they could do this, they would reach Midgard, and they would be ok. But then suddenly there was more yelling, there were guards, Einherjar surrounding them, and suddenly it was all battling and throwing spells furiously in every direction._

_And he didn’t know how it happened, but in the thick of battle, Loki found himself almost next to Thor, reaching out for the blonde – maybe, just maybe, they were so close –_

_And then his whole world was wiped blank, of all but the wide, wide expanse of empty space, and the whiteness of Thor’s shocked expression, as they tumbled down into death._

_~_

Loki’s cry was strangled as he awoke, wet with sweat that slowly crackled into ice as he returned to a cooler temperature waking, his dream having forced his temperature to rise. Dream. Memory. _Nightmare_. Loki understood. He had died – he had actually _died_ , and now he understood. He understood everything. And he was horrified at what he had done. At what the others had done. He was moving without conscious action the next thing he was aware of was pulling on his boots, tunic and leggings already on, and hurrying down the stairs towards the door. It was still late, there was no sign of a sunrise yet. Although he was only conscious of having relived one memory, it seemed to have acted as a key, unlocking a flood of information in his mind, including an entire slew of faces and names – some of which were decidedly more familiar than others.

 

He had to go back home. He was fairly sure that he could make it without being caught; he would have to, this was far too important to leave. He had a long overdue conversation with a certain woman. He had his cloak from the hook, now wrapped securely around his shoulders. It was a testament to just how lost in thought he was that he didn’t notice the presence behind him before that moment.

 

“Loki?”

 

The sudden voice made him pause, and he spun around to see Thor behind him, bleary eyed but growing ever more conscious as he took in the Jotun’s appearance, the heavy cloak settled around his shoulders as it hadn’t been for all those weeks, boots tightly strapped around his thighs. To Thor’s eyes, Loki must look as though he was about to run away. Which has wasn’t. _You are though,_ a voice piped up in Loki mind, _you have no choice but to run. You know what will happen to him, happen because of you if you don’t_.

 

“Thor,” Loki bit out, terser than he intended to, and winced at the tone. Thor stepped forward, into the dim moonlight falling through the window, illuminating his features. “I’m going to come back,” Loki spoke up quickly, guiltily. Gods. Had he really been about to leave with not even a word to Thor? Thor, who of all people deserved to know everything that Loki was keeping crammed in his head?

 

But ever-trusting Thor did not take it as guilt, took Loki at his word and stepped forward again, reaching out to touch Loki. Loki flinched as Thor’s hand drew close to his cheek, making Thor hesitate. In the end it was Loki who pulled Thor’s hand forward, pressing it against his own cheek. The ice had crumbled away, and the contrast between their skin temperatures made both men shiver.

 

“I thought…I wondered if you didn’t like it here,” Thor confessed softly. “If you were leaving because you hated it, or hated me, or”

 

“No! Never,” Loki told him, hurriedly, fiercely. “I do not hate you Thor I have never, and I will never. Neither do I hate your friends.” He took a deep breath, eyes closing, “Tony and Bruce have both become dear friends to me. Steve also, although I fear he may still not trust me. I never…planned to leave like this. I always intended to return. Please believe me.”

 

A coil of something sickening worked its way into his gut; begging for belief. The Liar, the Trickster, trying to trick his way out of another scheme gone wrong for him. Oh Gods.

 

Thor didn’t accuse him of lies, didn’t attack him for not saying anything, instead pulled him close, resting their foreheads together. “Then were are you going?” he asked gently, and Loki pulled away with a sigh that spoke volumes of distaste.

 

“I need to see a witch,” Loki told him, and Thor’s heart thumped. There were many who claimed to have the gift of sorcery, but more often than not, it was little more than parlour tricks. Any sorcerers with real talent were either snapped up and taken by Asgard, or had skill enough to hide themselves from Heimdall’s probing sight. Judging by Loki’s gaze, it was not any old soothsayer or palm reader that Loki was going to see.

 

“…Can I come?” he asked quietly, not really expecting the answer he wanted. Indeed, Loki shook his head, although Thor was comforted as Loki’s hand snuck out from under the folds of his cloak to dance nervously over Thor’s fingers and knuckles, one press away from holding his hand.

 

“Not this time,” Loki told him, firmly. “I wish you could come she is not a woman I enjoy meeting with, let alone one on one…but this isn’t something you can hear.”

 

Thor’s heart sank. Loki was keeping secrets, and he wasn’t even trying to disguise the fact that he was doing so. Although, he supposed, there was something comforting in the fact that Loki was not lying to him. And yet, in the back of his mind, something was nagging, telling him that for Loki not to be lying was something to worry about far more that Loki speaking the truth. Loki’s hand had finally retracted, and he was making his way towards the door, glamour already sneaking up and around his features, as Thor followed to stand by the door as he left.

 

“Come back safely,” were his parting words, and a faint curving of blue lips was his only response as Loki slunk away into the dark.

 

_It will never be the same._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I rushed things a little too much. Do tell me what you think. (':


	10. Why?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Buttons on the phone are worn thin  
>  I don’t think that I knew the chaos I was getting in  
> But I’ve broken all my promises to you  
> I’ve broken all my promises to you_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loki talks thing over with an old friend. Well…friend isn't quite the word for it.

She had a crimson scarf tied around her head like a bandana, standing out starkly against her raven hair and blue-grey skin. Her ears were as pointed as Loki’s, but her skin a few shades lighter, a common difference between male and female, but also a common indicator of how much human was mixed in to the bloodline.

 

Her sharp eyes, a fawn brown that betrayed human blood, found his form as he entered the dingy shop, and narrowed dangerously. Slender arms, encased in fingerless black gloves came together to lace those long, exposed digits for the Jotun’s chin to rest upon.

 

“Well,” she said testily, with a voice filled with ice and the promise of pain, “look what the proverbial cat dragged back in.”

 

“Angrboda,” Loki greeted, wincing as he said her name. ‘The harbinger of grief’, was the most exact translation he had been able to unearth for her unusual name. And it certainly seemed apt when he became involved with the talented, witchcraft-practising Jotun. She seemed to relish all the trouble she could get him into. With even more new memories than ever swimming in his mind, he was able to gaze upon her in a new, and frankly horrifying, light. Details he could have easily done without, including the woman spread out beneath him, body bare and rising and falling underneath his rough hands, black hair mingling as their heads came close together. He shuddered, trying to bring his mind back to the present, and wipe such memories firmly from his mind, or at least hide them in a deep and dark corner of it.

 

Angrboda kept her eyes trained on him as he moved forward, in and out of the light filtering through the holes in her roof. Absently, she pulled out a deck of tarot cards sitting at her elbow, shuffling them skilfully as she kept her eyes on him, until his skin crawled.

 

“It’s been quite some time since you’ve graced my door, Son-of-no-one,” she greeted nastily, not inviting him to sit down, and finally directing her attention down at the cards, only for them to tumble out of her grasp.

 

Loki said nothing as her lips turned down, and she stared at the cards irritably.

 

“I…found it necessary to take a journey,” he offered up finally as an excuse, knowing it was weak. True, but truth in words was not something that mattered to the woman who had grown up with his lying.

 

Angrboda scowled at the cards, prodding them a little, “You upset Sigyn when you ran off, you know.” She said sulkily.

 

 _Shit_. Loki winced. Never upset Sigyn if you wished to encounter Angrboda and walk away unscathed. _Sigyn_. Loki abruptly recalled the simple, hardworking girl in a very different light, gazing up at him nervously, his own smile reassuring rather than teasing for once as he lead the bejewelled and silk draped girl down the aisle. Her own gaze had taken time to warm; unlike so many of the æsir who mistrusted him, she had never judged, but that had never stopped her from being scared of what she knew he was truly capable of, with all his schemes and deceit. It had warmed, however, with the passing of time and Loki had honestly loved her for it. But, it was not an intense love, not a shadow of what he shared with Thor, what every Loki had shared with every Thor. Still, he valued her companionship, as he realised he always had in their childhood.

 

“I’ll make it up to her,” he promised, a little wildly, he didn’t really have time to be concerned with pacifying Sigyn and by proxy placating Angrboda, before pressing his hand down on the table, fingers splayed out across the cards. The bracelet Thor had given him jangled down ice and obviously around his wrist and, finally, Angrboda’s interest was piqued.

 

“Ooooh,” she breathed out, delicate blue fingers prodding the bracelet, turning it this way and that as she admired it, irritation melting away in the face of what was the most interesting gossip she was going to get regarding Loki in her life. “Loki, you never said you had a new _admirer._ Pray tell who it is.”

 

“I think you already know who it is,” he replied, wearily, accusingly, as he finally took a seat before her. “And he is far from being a _new_ admirer.” He fixed her with a look, searching her face. “…You’ve known this for a long time, haven’t you. What I’m talking about. You’ve known this since we first met, maybe even earlier.”

 

Angrboda’s fingers froze in their probing, and she leant back, drinking in Loki’s appearance like she was seeing him for the first time. She neither confirmed nor denied his words, and Loki could feel her eyes tracing his face, the tense set of his jaw, his cheeks darkened from blushing, and his eyes, wide and weary with knowledge and fear, and an emotion too deep for her to fathom.

 

She fiddled with the trailing ends of her headscarf for a moment, contemplating her next words.

 

“…How long?” She said simply.

 

“…A few weeks now.” Loki admitted. “I…didn’t realise at first. He was a stranger to me. But then, I…started to dream. I started to remember, just fragments at first…” his eyes filled with even more sadness. “But now I remember it all.”

 

“Say his name for me,” Angrboda requested, still skirting the lines and planes of his face. Loki wondered if she was reading him like she always did, learning more from his body and face than from his words. For one who relied on wordplay to get by, having an acquaintance he could perform such a feat was annoying, to say the least.

 

“I do not see why you need me to-“

 

“Loki,” she interrupted, calmly, “say it.”

 

It was as if she had compelled him. The letters and sounds fell from his lips, unbidden by him but called forth by some deeper power.

 

“ _Thor_ ,” Loki breathed, and suddenly he wanted to cry.

 

Angrboda’s eyes fluttered shut, and she inhaled deeply. Loki could see her eyes moving beneath their lids, darting back and forth as though reading a manuscript concealed within them.

 

“Well shit,” she finally said, blunt as a rock when her eyes finally opened again. “Loki, you’re _doomed_.” She informed him, unhelpfully. He leant forward, desperation in his eyes.

 

“That is all very well, but what about _him_? If I were to leave now, to erase his memory perhaps, would he be safe?” he asked desperately. He didn’t want this, he wanted what he was saying to be false, he didn’t to make Thor forget, didn’t want to give him up- but…but if that was what it took…

 

Angrboda shook her head, bracelets and charms on her own wrists and long neck jangling as she did so. “I’m afraid not. Your meeting is all the trigger they need to find you.” She told him solemnly. “You recovering your memory changes nothing, other than how much you will suffer when they find and drag you apart again.”

 

Loki’s heart felt too restricted in his chest, sick relief and swamping worry and fear.

 

“There must be something,” he hissed across the table, his nails sinking into the wood “I have to be able to save him, Angrboda. _I have to_.”

 

“You could always kill yourself,” she suggested flatly. “Experience tells us he’ll likely follow and you can be free for a little longer.” She showed no sign of concern or regret for recommending the death of her childhood companion and a man she had never met in this life.

 

“He wouldn’t kill himself,” Loki scoffed; self doubt creeping in swift and unbidden. “He is not that in love with me. I do not even know if I am in love with him,” Loki continued dully, the memories of the kisses they had shared tarnished now by his knowledge, and by the possibility that he was being manipulated by the past “perhaps it is only the memories of having once loved him that motivate me to feel for him now.”

 

“…You really think so?” Angrboda raised an eyebrow at him, before her brown eyes narrowed. “Well. I suppose it may be so, there is a first time for everything. Even a first time for you not being a sentimental fool when it comes to the oafish son of Odin.”

 

“He is son of _no one_!” Loki snapped furiously, leaping up from his seat. “He has no relation to that _hated_ King, to him or to Asgard! He has fled this far with me, and he will flee further. I will protect him and keep his memory blank and safe from them, I will _not. Let. Them. Have him._ ” He snarled, red eyes boring into pale brown.

 

Angrboda stared back at him evenly, a triumphant smirk twitching at her lips. “Oh yes,” she said, her tone practically sing-song with glee, “Those are definitely the words of one who is not in love with Thor Son-of-No-One.”

 

Loki’s mouth snapped shut, eyes wide as he flopped boneless to the floor. His head fell forward, black cloud of hair obscuring his face. Angrboda, in the first sign of decency she had probably displayed in her life, did not say a word as Loki’s shoulders began to shake, long fingers clutching at his hair and pulling at it, messing the gold beads about and tugging at his scalp.

 

“So what can I do?” he finally asked, looking up with crystallised trails running down his cheeks. “How can I save him? He is Thor, but at the same time he is so much not Thor…I do not wish to see him fall into their hands under any circumstances but I cannot…I cannot see him die. Not again, not for my sake.”

 

Angrboda had kept herself distant, emotionally detached from him and his concerns as if he were a stranger. Part of this was natural abrasiveness, but part of it was, Loki realised as he female leapt forward over the table to pull Loki forward, wrapping her arms tightly around his shoulders. Her nails were digging in. It hurt, it was uncomfortable and awkward. It was also the most comforting thing he had felt since he had embraced Thor the day before. He wished so much that he had done more than simply brush their hands together before he had left. Angrboda’s tight grip, however, proved not to be a wholly dissatisfying substitute, and Loki gripped her in return, feeling the tensions beneath his fingers and under her skin.

 

Of course. She had always known. He wondered now, if it was even from childhood that she had known, and whether for both of them it was the magic in their veins that pulled forth their old memories with ease. It would make sense to with the different paths their magic had taken. Angrboda’s magic had always lain in reading the features and futures of others, and by a strange kind of proxy was able to build up an image of herself in the process. Of course out of all of them she would be the one to remember first. Angrboda finally pulled away from him, although she kept her bony grip on his shoulders, gripping them tightly.

 

“You cannot escape them forever,” she told him, and her voice was weary with the press of years upon it, “but you can run. Run as fast as you can, son-of-no-one,” she told him, voice fierce. “Don’t let them catch you, at any cost. I don’t want to end up even more under their control because you were not able to slip out from their grasp.”

 

Loki nodded, his tongue felt too heavy to speak but Angrboda seemed to understand, giving his shoulders a final squeeze before releasing him, and standing up behind the table. “I’ll see you out, “ she told him, returning to her airy, dismissive tones, “Dangerous criminals should not be given the opportunity to sneak about my home under my very nose.”

 

“And what a hideous nose it is,” Loki shot back at her. It was a lie, really. Angrboda’s delicate nose was one of the few pleasing things about her.  She gave her a retaliatory kick in the shins as punishment before ushering him roughly out of the door. Loki barely had time to pull his hood up before he was in the sunlight again, and spun around before Angrboda could remove him clear from the doorway. He grasped her hands tightly one last time. “Thank you,” he told her, and this time it was sincere, “apologise to Sigyn for me, please?” he asked, and Angrboda nodded.

 

“Bring her a present as nice as yours next time you’re on the run in this area,” she told him, squeezing the gold between her fingers. Loki plucked the bracelet out of her grasp, rolling his eyes, and without another word was gone, hurrying back towards Thor and his friends, Angrboda watching as he went.

 

~

 

Unbeknownst to the two diminutive Jotun within the house, there lurked a presence outside, one which had taken in Loki’s arrival, had seen the blonde figure of Sigyn out and around the house, and eventually watched as Loki exited the tiny shop, hood already up as he turned back to the tiny grey-skinned girl to grip her hands tightly before hurrying away. Balder lounged in the tree, one leg dangling from the branch he was sat on. “Well, well,” he murmured, gazing down at the scene, taking a bit out of a shining golden apple, “It looks like you’ve lead us to more than just my once-brother, Loki.” He licked a trail of shimmer juice that had run down his arm, lips curving into a smile. Tossing the apple down into the waiting hands of Helblindi, hidden just further back in the trees, Balder slid down to the ground with no small amount of grace, wandering back to the Jotun prince.

 

“What are we going to do with them?” Helblindi asked, curious. He knew little of the blonde girl but had known instantly Angrboda, differently dressed as she was from the last time he had seen her, and her blood so diluted by Midgardians. Balder turned to his companion, eyes glittering with mirth, in quantities Helblindi had never seen and had hoped to never see in blue irises.

 

“Do with them?” Balder echoed. “The usual, of course. Guards?” he called out, his demand instantly met by the clatter of men appearing before him, muted to others by the glow of blue magic surrounding them. “Wait until Loki has left the vicinity,” he ordered, voice calm, “a group of you, follow him. The others, seize the girls.” The Einherjar immediately moved to follow his orders, and Balder smiled again, holding his hand open to Helblindi, who dropped the golden apple back into the smaller Prince’s grip. “What a profitable day this has turned out to be,” he smiled, taking another bite. Helblindi watched him with distaste, until the shouts of females rose above the noise of Balder’s eating, and he emerged from the trees to assist in the capture, leaving the silver haired prince to his own devises beneath the trees.

 

Balder finished his apple, placing the remaining core in a small drawstring bag hung at his hips. Even the remains of such fruit were too precious to be leaving behind in a Midgardian forest, he mused, making hi way through the foliage. He was headed in the direction that Loki had disappeared into, and he wondered what had made the man so sloppy. He hadn’t even woven an illusion as he had run to visit his friends, the women who had been with him since the very first time. Well, it hardly mattered. Balder had been successful in finding the fugitives, and have even located two more of the individuals that were of particular interest to his father and to King Laufey. He did so love being victorious in his endeavours.

 

Hearing the struggles of the girls had not dissuaded him at all, Balder knew how they felt and knew that they would come to terms with the new lives that would be presented to them. They would be fools not to. He frowned a little, he would not have called Loki and Thor fools before, but watching them continue to run made it difficult not to. They just…didn’t understand, Balder told himself. Didn’t realise that there were greater things they were required for, and that wasting away on this tiny realm was wrong.

 

Seeing just who Loki’s friends were had in fact settled Balder’s mind on matters, erasing any doubts he might have had about taking these people away from their lives, having them eat the apples. Surely the fact that they had gravitated together like so, even without any outside influence from Asgard showed that they were destined to come together as they once had? Neither Loki nor Angrboda, the witch in particular, could deny that they knew the ways in which the strands of their fate had been interwoven for far longer than a single lifetime.

 

Yes, Balder decided, catching up with the Einherjar he had sent ahead and following Loki with them, this was for the best. Everything must always come full circle. That was the way things must be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes OC~ The lovely Angrboda. This is the same lady as seen in "Inter-Realm Relations" and in "Mother of Monsters". Well, a reincarnated version, but that's just a detail. 
> 
> Do tell me what you think~


	11. (interlude)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki returns home, unaware of the path of chaos he's left behind.
> 
> Thor's a mother hen.

Loki’s journey back to the house took much time, seemingly extending to an endless distance towards the end as he realised he had now been up for hours, and the journey between his own home and Thor’s was no small one. His lips pursed into a belligerent expression as he dragged himself for the last stretch of the journey before he practically fell against the door, only for it to open and for him to land in Thor’s arms instead. Thor’s expression was one of relief, tinged with embarrassment. Relief because Loki was back and safe, embarrassment because he didn’t want to admit that he’d been watching from the window for Loki to return and had all but flown to the door when he’d seen Loki’s approach.

 

“Are you well?” were the first words out of his mouth, and Loki flapped a tired hand at him,

 

“Food. Food now. Talk later.” He moaned, slumping a little more in Thor’s arms. Thor paused, thinking before he frowned,

 

“Loki, you must have eaten since last night?” he asked, incredulously, but the lack of answer from the Jotun in his arms, combined with the whining noises and blue hand that clawed helplessly in the direction of the kitchen where answer enough. “That isn’t healthy,” Thor told him disapprovingly, although a mischievous grin bloomed on his face as he swept Loki up into his arms as one might a bride, carrying him bodily into the kitchen and setting him down at the table. Loki didn’t stir until food was placed directly in front of him and after that point all Loki’s attention was focused on shoving it into his mouth.

 

Thor was content to watch him quietly, “I hoped you were ok,” he started, as Loki’s eating began to slow in speed. “You left so suddenly, and you didn’t look…didn’t look well, so…”

 

“Did you think I wouldn’t come back?” Loki asked quietly. Thor shook his head,

 

“No, I knew you’d come back. You said you were going to, so I knew you would.” Thor smiled at him, and Loki’s lips couldn’t seem to help but lift up in tandem with them.

 

“Thank you for believing me,” Loki said lightly, and Thor didn’t fail to notice that no more was said on the topic, or that there were deep-running undercurrents of thankfulness that Thor couldn’t fathom the reasons behind.

 

It took some time, but Loki eventually released a couple more details; his visit to the witch had not been totally impersonal; she had been a lifelong acquaintance of his (Loki was very careful not to say ‘friend’, Thor noticed) and another female friend. Thor had briefly considered being jealous that Loki’s young life had been dominated by pretty girls (Loki didn’t say the witch was pretty but he had very definitely implied the other girl was gorgeous. However Thor wasn’t terribly inclined to indulge his jealously as Loki had relayed all of this information to him whilst they were spooning together on Loki’s bed.) Loki fell silent suddenly, mouth pursing into a tightly line. Thor’s hands stroked lines up and down Loki’s arms.

 

“Are you worried about their safety?” Thor asked finally. Loki was silent, but twisted around so he and Thor were chest to chest.

 

“No more than I’m worried for ours,” he said softly, and Thor felt suddenly guilty. Being at home, he hadn’t realised how easy it was to imagine things were normal.

 

“We’re going to be ok,” Thor told Loki, as he had told him so many times, and wondered if he’d still believe it if Loki told him everything he actually knew.

 

~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologises for the shortness. But this is, as the title says, only an interlude~


	12. Warrior

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Send your wishes into the air_  
>  So someone listens, someone is there  
> And you won’t know anything about it  
> Until you have to live without it __
> 
> __I’ll keep you safe tonight, ‘cause I am a warrior  
>  And I’ll fight, I’ll fight, I’ll fight. ____

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stuff is happening!! *flails and points* stuff is happening!!

The peace lasted for two more days, before the calm of the afternoon was abruptly shattered as Bruce suddenly shot through the door, collapsing to his knees and panting for breath, kicking the door closed behind him. Steve shot out of his seat to help him up, calling out to ask if he was ok. Thor and Loki unwound from their position on the sofa, Thor having convinced Loki to cuddle, pulling the tense frost giant into his arms and refusing to let go until Loki caved and relaxed against him.

 

Bruce’s abrupt entrance returned all the tension that had drained from Loki’s body, as he shot up and off the sofa, moving until he was kneeling beside Bruce with Steve, and placed a hand against the panting man’s chest. The runes on his hand glowed, traveling up his arm, and Bruce’s breathing eased slowly until he could speak again.

 

“Soldiers,” was the first word he spoke, staring regretfully and fearful at Loki, before his gaze switched to Thor. “There are soldiers, Einherjar in the town, and they’re heading here. They must have found out you were here.” His look suddenly turned pained, frightened, “I swear, I didn’t tell them, I wouldn’t have-“

 

“We know,” Thor cut in; having moved across as well, and having pulled a shell-shocked Loki back away from Bruce. “We know you wouldn’t do that. But now, go find Tony, both of you, whilst we decide what plan of action we will take.”

 

The two Midgardians looked at him, confused, but eventually acquiesced, leaving the room to seek out the mechanised inventor. Loki turned to face  Thor slowly, his eyes wide and haunted.

 

“Plan of action?” he asked with a quivering voice he didn’t even try to disguise. “Einherjar are about to descend on the house of your friends, and you talk of plans of actions?! What plan could there be? We cannot save them!”

 

“There must be a way,” Thor tried to sooth him, smoothing a hand over black hair. “We will find a way. You are clever, Loki, and so are Bruce, Tony, and Steve as well. We will certainly find some way to escape this.”

 

Rather than having the desired effect, however, Loki’s face suddenly took on a strange quality, and he paused, licking his lip, before speaking, his voice low and deceptively even.

 

“What if…what if escaping is the problem?” Loki began slowly. “What if instead of running, we…we gave ourselves up?”

 

Thor stared at him, shocked, his hand falling away from Loki’s head. Loki, who was normally so acutely turned to Thor’s touch, seemed to barely notice the absence of his hand, and simply continued to stare up at him with big red eyes.

 

“…Loki, you cannot be serious,” Thor finally spoke, tone incredulous. “We cannot give ourselves up to them, we can’t! What have we been running for all this time only to stop now-“

 

“You don’t even know why we’re running!” Loki accused him angrily, finally finding his feet and standing. “What if...what if we’re – _you’re_ doing the wrong thing by running? What if they are only trying to take you home?” he finally said, managing not to choke on his own words.

 

Thor froze, his arms hanging at his side. “I…don’t understand…” he said slowly, confusion and an inkling of fear appearing in his eyes as he tried to understand Loki’s words, his mind drawing up blank after blank as he failed to process the meaning behind the Frost Giant’s question. There was a noise like a sob at the back of Loki’s throat, and he pitched forward, arms wrapping tightly around Thor.

 

“We…we have already lived many, many lives,” Loki began, haltingly. “We have been reborn over and over, meeting again and again, always drawn together. Always dying together.”

 

Thor’s gaze settled somewhere over Loki’s shoulder, expression pinched and eyes wide as he tried to take in what the man was saying.

 

“Right at the beginning we were brothers,” Loki finally worked up the nerve to speak the words, and suddenly Thor could feel nails digging into his back, through his clothing, “We were brothers together, princes of Asgard. We were _gods_ , Thor!” Thor opened his mouth to protest; he was not a god, how could he have ever been, he was a son of no one, a midgardian, not a- “you can deny it all you want,” Loki said quietly, destroying any response Thor had, “Gods know I do not want to believe it. But I have remembered, and these memories are not so easily lost once again.”

 

“…Brothers?” Thor finally croaked out, from a throat run dry, “We…were brothers, Loki?”

 

“…not by blood,” Loki admitted, and a hiss of relief escaped Thor’s lips, until Loki continued, “but that did not matter. Even then, even as gods and raised as brothers we could not help but…gravitate towards each other. Despite everything, despite all that was before us, despite your duty to provide heirs as Crown Prince of Asgard-”

 

That truly did feel like a kick to Thor’s gut. Sudden images splattered across his mind’s eyes and he choked down a gasp –

 

_Odin’s face surfaced in his mind, smiling down at him, Frigga’s hands gentle as they held him, Balder sparring with him –_

 

Against his volition he was wrenched out of Loki’s grip, hands flying up to his head, gripping at golden strands as his mind burned, reacting violently, _viciously_ against the memories. There were no discernable events, no pinpoint accuracy, but sensations, feelings, echoes of once-felt half-memories. Thor wanted to cry out, wanted it to stop, until finally his mind caught hold of a final image.

 

_A tall, slender man stood to his right, clothed in emerald green and shining gold, black hair slicked carefully back. The skin was too warm, too Asgard-fair, the eyes were blue and green like glittering bottle glass, but the features were the same. The grin, the tilt of the head, the standing was all the same._

 

 _Loki_.

 

“I remember…” Thor finally spoke, looking back up, happy as his gaze focused on Loki’s face, “I remember _you_ , Loki.” He half smiled at the pleasure of knowing Loki not once, but twice, but Loki’s distraught gaze made him falter.

 

“And do you remember what we did Thor?” Loki’s voice was tight, lips barely parting, “Do you remember what our actions lead to?”

 

Thor could not. His mind ached with the struggle, remembering and forgetting, the storm that he had never quite been aware of at the back of his mind, pushing prodding, leaking only a little. “I…no, Loki. I do not remember what our actions led to,” Thor told him, “But I do…it’s you, Loki. It’s always been you. Don’t you remember, when we first met in the woods, and I told you your strategies had always been the best? And- and in the market place, I remembered again, I saw green and gold, I saw you. Not anyone else,” Thor assured him, fingers touching Loki’s face, to trace black and gold, “I do not need godhood. I do not need a thousand lives. All I need, all I will ever need is you Loki.”

 

Loki stared at him, seemingly unable to process Thor’s words, unable to take them in. “How…can you always be so good to me,” Loki finally whispered, a broken sound that made Thor grip him tighter, flinching slightly at the sensation of too cold tears dripping onto his hands. Loki didn’t even see t be aware of his own tears, but s soon as he felt Thor brush at them he jerked backwards. “Why do you always do this?!” His tone was suddenly accusing, eyes narrowed at Thor, “Every time, in every life, why must you always be so _stupid_? Why must you always draw yourself to the one thing that means your doom?!”

 

“I don’t…I don’t understand,” Thor struggled to hear Loki’s words, to understand what the Jotun meant. Loki let out a cry of distress, a frustrated, hopeless noise,

 

“In _every life_ Thor!” he cried, gripping his own shoulders with freezing fingers. “In every life, you are the only one who has always been able to make me feel _loved_ , and _wanted!_ No matter how many cycles we travel through, you are always there. Always ready to save me from myself and from their hatred.” The sobs were coming harder now, and Loki backed a step away from Thor, only for the other to step forward, arms reaching out for the blue skinned man once again.

 

“And how do I repay you,” Loki muttered, eyes squeezing shut as memories flashed across the back of his eyelids, “I give them the means to find you, and I cause your death. Whether intentional or not, Thor, _I am what kills you_. In _every life_ I am the reason for your downfall. And I _can’t take it anymore!”_ he screamed out, the sobs being wrenched from his body now. “I _love you_ Thor, more that I have ever loved anyone, and I wish for you to live forever. With or without me by your side.” Loki confessed, voice dropping back down.

 

“But I love you too, Loki,” Thor said softly, cupping Loki’s chin. “Loki, you speak as if…as if all those life you forced me to end my own life rather than it being of my own volition. But I can’t imagine, in a million lifetimes, being able to choose anything but staying by your side. Loki, I have never loved anyone before in the way I love you and I know, _know_ with all my heart that I will never love another like I love you. So don’t you dare blame yourself for something that was and always will be my own choice.” Thor pressed their foreheads together, and winced at the feeling of tears running across his fingers from Loki’s lowered lashes. “You see?” he said softly, moving down to kiss Loki on the lips before continuing, “I do not even have my memories and I know that to be true.”

 

“For you to be wise, of all things, without your memories…” Loki hiccupped, a wobbly smile flickering into being on his face for a moment, before it vanished again, his face overtaken by seriousness. “You would give up your parents and the glittering halls of Asgard for someone like me?” he questioned softly.

 

“Yes, and I would do so a thousand times over. A hundred, a thousand, a million, as many as it takes to make you understand that there is nothing I would not do for you.” Thor told him, pressing his thumb against Loki’s cheek, tracing the golden lines as he did so, and making Loki shiver.

 

“Hey, so, what’s this I hear about gua- oh, are we interrupting?”

 

Tony’s voice was loud and abrasive, cutting through the conversation like one of his precious blowtorches cutting through a sheet of metal. Thor and Loki jerked apart, Loki scrubbing at his hastily turned face, blocking the sight of his cheeks.

 

“I’m sorry my friends,” Thor spoke for them, and Loki was amazed by the steadiness of his voice, “we have brought danger to your home and put you in danger.”

 

“It’s your home too,” Steve protested, but Thor raised a hand to stop him, “Never the less, we have brought danger here and we must leave in order to protect you. Please, there isn’t much time.”

 

Steve still looked unconvinced, and Loki didn’t miss the look Steve and even Bruce shot in his direction as he turned back around to re-join the conversation. “You should at least take supplies,” Steve said finally, “Bruce, Tony, help me pull something together?”

 

“Actually, you take Loki,” Tony cut on his sharp eyes fixed on Thor, “I’d like to talk to Thor about something.” Thor looked at him in surprise, but no one disputed his request. Loki followed Bruce and Steve through into the kitchen and Tony pulled Thor to the side, into his lab. He leant back against the desk and pinned Thor with a look. “What’s happening Thor?”

 

Thor’s gaze dropped, “I don’t know what you mean.”

 

“Yes you do. Before it was ok to hide here, now you’re running.”

 

“There are guards outside!” Thor protested, “We can’t wait for them to invade your home!”

 

“No, you could lead them away and then return. The way you’re talking it’s as if you’re never going to come back. Something’s changed,” Tony said firmly, moving forward to grip Thor by the arm, “before, you knew you were being chased but you didn’t know why. Ever since Loki ran off and came back he’s known, and now you do to. Don’t try and deny it,” he warned as Thor opened his mouth, “I know. You know why now.” His gaze twisted slightly, concern and frustration in equal amounts spilling across his features, “What is it you’ve done that make them chase after you like this? Why can’t you tell us?”

 

“I wish I could tell you,” Thor told him, quietly, “but…although I may know, I do not understand it. I wish I did, and I wish I could tell you everything, but…” he trailed off, he didn’t have the words to convey to Tony what he meant. Tony held his gaze, before breaking away and picking up something from his desk. He held it in his hand a moment, as if weighing it up before he turned back around and pressed it into Thor’s fingers. “Tony?” Thor questioned, gazing down at the little device. It was a rough rectangle, engraved with Tony’s somewhat crude imitation of the markings Steve had carved into his arm, the centre of which was a circle. Tony tapped the circle lightly,

 

“If you…end up needing some more help out there,” he said slowly, “press that. It’s a button, you’ll have to press it quite hard…but if you do, help will come.” Tony grinned at the stunned look on Thor’s face, “What, you thought we’d abandon you because you’re going on the run? We’re practically accomplices now, secreting you away in this house. Villains unite!” he said dryly, lips quirked upwards, and Thor smiled.

 

“Thank you my friend,” he said sincerely. Loki entered the room just as Thor had pulled Tony into a potentially bruising hug, and cleared his throat.

 

“Thor, the others want to speak with you. There are supplies by the door, only a much as we can carry but it should be enough to last,” Loki told him, and Thor nodded, pulling away from Tony with a final squeeze on the man’s shoulder.

 

“Well,” Tony turned to Loki after Thor had left, “seems everyone wants a piece of Tony today. Planning to get your fill before we’re parted forever?” he batted his eyelashes at Loki, who rolled his own red eyes in return.

 

“Hardly. Although I do need to ask a favour of you. I know it is not likely I will be able to repay you, but I ask that you will do it for me anyway.”

 

Tony frowned in confusion, “What favour would that be? You’re leaving now, how would any favour I perform for you in your absence be able to hep you? What do you want me to do?” Loki advanced on him, leaning close and causing the shorter man to lean back slightly.

 

“Research,” Loki spoke softly, but swiftly. “You must do as much research as you can, whether we return or not you must find out everything. _Norse Mythology_. I tried to search myself earlier, but much of it appears to have been destroyed, or hidden.” Tony opened his mouth to protest but Loki pressed a finger against them, silencing him, “You are clever, Tony Stark. You will succeed where even I have failed I am sure…Just promise me you will do this. Find out their plans. Find out why they want us.” He pressed the scrap of paper into Tony’s hands at last. “I tried to write down everything I remembered, but I can’t piece together it all. Maybe, with you’re help, next time we meet you will be able to save us both.”

 

Loki removed his finger, shot Tony a rueful smile, before dashing out of the room and after Thor. Tony was left standing silently, staring down at the scrap of paper. _What he had…remembered_? What had Loki meant? How could he remember details of mythologies he himself had claimed were destroyed? He unfolded the paper, and his eyebrows shot up and the sight of the information scrawled across it, taking in many familiar names and not many familiar stories. Researching the hidden stories of their gods and rulers? Tony grinned. Well. He had always enjoyed poking his nose where it didn’t belong.

 

~

 

Meanwhile, Bruce and Steve were fussing over Thor and the provisions, having managed to squeeze it down into just Thor’s bag, the same he had been using when he and Loki first met, and were finishing just as Loki emerged from the back room, pulling his hood up, although he let it sit back on his head rather than let it obscure his entire face. Thor’s axes were strapped to his belt once again, and Loki was struck by the familiarity.

 

“Ready?” he asked, and Thor nodded, gripping Loki’s hand.

 

“Stay safe,” Steve told them, seriously, “ _both of you._ ” Loki felt the jump of surprise in his chest when Steve added those words, turning his gaze on the newcomer. Loki felt a second leap follow, this one of happiness. Steve trusted him. He could see it in the man’s eyes, honest eyes like Thor’s. Steve honestly cared for both of them, wished them both safety.

 

“Thank you,” Loki told him, and meant it from the depth of his heart. “You too Bruce. Thank for everything you’ve done.”

 

Steve nodded at him, and a small smile spread on his face, “You’re welcome, Loki,” he said, tugging both of them into a swift hug, slapping them on the backs. “Stay safe, ok?” he said finally, “don’t let them get you.”

 

“We’ll do our best,” Thor laughed, with humour he didn’t really feel or believe.

 

With good reason, as it turned out, as their best didn’t seem to get them very far. They had managed to sneak out of the back of the house, sneaking through a series of small alleys that Thor was quite certain weren’t usually filed with this many shadows. The first Einherjar they ran into they managed to take out swiftly, Thor grabbing him by the mouth, slamming him into the wall and knocking him out. After that, their luck seemed to run out. They were forced to leave the safe, dark alleys as they ran, and it was not long until they were spotted by Einherjar, and swiftly became surrounded.

 

“What can we do?” Thor hissed, ending up back to back with Loki as they stared at the circle of Einherjar around them, “We cannot defeat all of them!”

 

No they could not. Loki could see that easily, there were far too many, Æsir men intermixed with Jotuns as they had opened into a large space, and provided, in retrospect, an easy place for them to be cornered. Loki was furious with himself, and if he was honest, scared. This wasn’t like him. He wasn’t usually this _stupid_ , he should have had them layered in illusions, shadows, donned in cloaks and magic, not out in the streets, looking like themselves. He had done the same thing when he’d travelled to Angrboda and Sigyn’s home. His stomach plummeted at the thought; was this situation his fault? Had he led the guards straight to them? He felt sick at the thought.

 

Thor’s hands had been gripping Loki’s hands, but his grip suddenly slipped, flying to grasp the axes strapped to his belt, unhooking one, and the colour drained from Loki’s face when he saw why. The Einherjar, Æsir and Jotuns alike had parted, allowing the two drastically different Princes to make their way forward. Helblindi’s face was stony as he looked upon his once-brother and Thor, but Balder’s face, upon meeting their gazes, split into a grin.

 

“Hello Thor, Loki,” he greeted, and Loki shuddered at the sound of the quiet voice. Balder must have noticed the ripple that had passed through Loki’s body, as his attention fixed on the Jotun, hard eyes showing a strange kind of mild contempt. “Oh come now,” he laughed, taking another step forward. “Let’s not be childish. You, more than anyone else, must understand what we are trying to do Loki. Why don’t you just make this easier for yourselves?”

 

“I do understand,” Loki told him, regaining his voice, and Thor turned to look at him as Loki’s hands suddenly found his, gripping onto the blonde tightly, “and it’s because I understand that I will not allow you to do this.” Suddenly his entire body was alight, every rune glowing with a blinding light. Balder realised what he was doing a second too late, and by the time he had stepped forward with a yell, and outstretched, the couple had already vanished. He stared, incredulous at the spot, before he grit his teeth.

 

“Find them!” he barked out at the guards, wrestling to control his voice. They hurried to disperse; none of them wanted to be in Balder’s presence when the prince obviously had such a fragile hold on his temper.

 

~

 

Thor and Loki’s body slammed down as they reappeared, miles away from the spot they had vanished from. Thor recovered quickly, picking himself up and gazing around. A wide expanse of sea greeted his gaze, miles below him, and stretching out into the water, stretching out from both sides of where the two men had landed, was the shimmering rainbow light of a bifrost bridge. Once inter-realm travel had become common, every realm had been fitted with the golden devise, making travel a simple matter. Thor had never liked it, the bridge that led to Midgard’s bifrost extended out from a high cliff, and there was something about the sheer drop, the lack of railings, that put Thor on edge.

 

“Loki,” he said, gazing out with worry across the bridge, shivering in the cold wind, “Loki, we need to-“ but he cut himself off when he realised Loki was still hunched over on the bridge, shuddering, and not from the cold. Thor grasped Loki by the shoulders, trying to embrace him and at the same time pull him up, “Loki’s what’s wrong, we have to keep going, we-” he was cut off by the sound of Loki mumbling something. Thor’s hand moved to cup Loki’s chin, tilting it up towards him, and he was shaken by the haunted look on Loki’s face. “Loki?” he asked, slowly, quietly, “Loki, what’s wrong?”

 

It took Loki a moment to be able to speak, and Thor watched the Jotun try to drag together his thoughts into some kind of functioning order, “This…this is what happened before…” Loki choked out, his eyes stretched wide and filled with sick fear, “I attempted to teleport us that first time, we ended up on the bridge and they caught us- _they caught us Thor, they’ll catch us again, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-”_ Thor gripped him fiercely by the shoulders, shaking him.

 

“Loki, stop this,” he commanded, “You have done nothing, not to harm us. You have saved us, Loki. We never would have made it this far if you had not acted as you did.” Loki shook his head, panicked and afraid, Thor fought to reassure him, “Loki, just keep walking with me, we have time, you gave us time…and when we get to the bifrost you will have the energy to cast an illusion, I know it, we’ll be fine.”

 

Loki’s grip on Thor tightened, his gaze hardening into something resembling determination. “Yes,” he hissed out, trying to regain control of his voice. “Yes, we will make it. I will make it.” They continued on their way. As they continued to move onwards, further down the bridge and no guards appeared, Loki’s strength began to return. His posture straightened, and although he didn’t loosen his grip on Thor, he stopped using Thor like he was a crutch. Thor tried to thin what realm it would be best for them to travel to; Asgard was undoubtedly out of the question, perhaps Vanaheim, or Alfheim? Either way they would need constant disguise, Loki more than Thor, with his distinctive features, so decidedly Jotun. When the bifrost finally came into his vision, however, Thor was not prepared for the onslaught that suddenly hit him. He realised, as he was falling, that this was the first time he had actually seen the bifrost.

 

Thor collapsed to his knees, heels of his hands pressed hard against his forehead. He could hear Loki above him, calling out his name frantically, cool fingers grabbing his hands, but there was a second Loki in his mind now. _This Loki was clothed is green, with curving gold horns and skin pale as milk. His expression was one of madness and fear, and Thor felt himself launch his body at this Loki, hand outstretched and weapon clenched tightly as Loki was tackled to the rainbow bridge beneath them…_

_Loki rolling off the edge of the bridge clinging on with fierce fingers…_

_Thor helping him up, only for him to disappear and for him to suddenly be surrounded by vicious laughing copies of the same man over and over again, his brother, his Loki his brother-Loki-friend-lover-lokilokiloki-_

_And now pounding against the bridge watching it crack and shatter beneath him, Loki screaming from behind-_

_Loki’s face, tearstained and filled with bitter acceptance, as his fingers opened and he fell into the abyss…_

 

Thor didn’t realise he was screaming until he saw Loki’s face, scrunched up in pain even as the frost giant had stayed huddled with him, long arms wrapped tightly around Thor’s body. “You’re ok,” the Jotun was saying, and even his voice was pained, “You’re ok, you’re fine…”

 

“Loki,” Thor choked out, _and oh gods he had been about to call him brother_ , “Loki, I just…I remembered-“

 

“It doesn’t matter!!” Loki said fiercely, “It doesn’t matter what you remembered. I don’t care, it’s just a memory, it’s not you. It’s not you…”

 

And suddenly Thor’s arms were around Loki’s shoulders too, and he was kissing the black haired man desperately, and Loki kissed back with all the passion and all the heat his frozen body could muster. “We must…” Thor got out between two kisses, “we must keep going. They will come soon…” the two former gods pulled each other two their feet, and prepared to continue their way along the bridge. Until, with a blast that almost sent them flying from its edge, the bifrost exploded into life before them, and with that as their only warning, they were faced with the King of the gods. The Allfather, Odin Borson.


	13. Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It’s nothing like wanting to go back to those days  
>  I’m searching for a sky that doesn’t exist anymore  
> Don’t give me that sad face like I’ve become a victim  
> Like you understand._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I present, the explanation for all the weirdness. Also Thor, wth, why would you even do that.

 “Well doesn’t this take us back,” Thor said grimly, arms wrapped tightly around Loki, all but encasing him in in the heavy cloak he wore. The rainbow bridge flickered beneath his feet, and his stomach lurched as his feel met thin air as he moved it back. Loki was trembling, but Thor was more inclined to believe that it was from anger than anything else, as the blue skinned boy’s eyes were fixed on Odin, wide and wild, as he kept his lips sealed shut, treacherous tongue trapped behind.

 

“The thing is, _Odin_ ,” Thor continued, taking grim pleasure at the King wincing at his name being spoken by the one he wished to call him father, “I never thought I would be on a bridge like this again, but in order to run from you.” Thor’s fingers crept down, hidden by the cloak and by Loki’s body. They slid into his pocket, outstretched and grasping until they finally close around the item he was looking for. Heart thumping, he pressed down hard on the button of the device Tony had given him, hoping it would be enough. That whatever Tony had devised would be enough and may, against all odds, save them.

 

“It does not have to be this way Thor,” Odin spoke, and his voice was low and powerful, rolling across the air between them like thunder. “It should not be this way. You are my son, I do not wish to fight you,” His gaze flickered to Loki, “…to fight either of you.”

 

Loki flinched at the gaze that was on him, but stood tall and proud, wrapped in Thor’s embrace, shielded from Odin’s wrath as he had been so many times by the same arms. “If you do not wish to fight us, why send Einherjar after us?” Loki questioned bitingly, clutching closer to Thor, “Forgive me, but your actions do not appear to be those of a peaceful man, _Allfather_.”

 

“Desperate times require desperate measures,” Odin said slowly, sensibly, “Things have spiralled far further than we ever anticipated they would. You must come with us, and resume your rightful places in order to bring about the course of actions so desperately needed by all nine of the realms.”

 

“What course of actions would that be?” Thor asked slowly, eyes narrowed. He tried desperately not to search his own memories for any answers, lest he unleash another flood. “What course could be so particular that it would not happen without us?” Odin studied them for a moment, before a single word fell from his lips.

 

“Ragnarök.”

 

There was silence. And then, in a disbelieving tone, Loki echoed his word.

 

“Ragnarök?” he posed it like it was a question, “The end of the world?” Memories, more memories appeared, of _children, Angrboda, Hel and Fenrir and Jormungand…Sigyn and their sons. Every one of his children sacrificed for the sake of Ragnarök._ Loki felt bile rise. He had no children. Not in this life and certainly not with either of his childhood companions, but rage burned ice cold in his chest at the memories of what he had once had, and what had been ripped from him so many times. “Why would you do that? Why would you want to bring about your own end?” he demanded, his mind turning as he tried to fathom their reasoning.

 

“Because it is what must happen, it is what has _always_ happened! Ragnarök is being delayed,” Odin pressed, “The worlds have grown too much, too far. They must be curbed and allowed to begin anew,” he explained, although to the couple before him it seemed nothing like an explanation, only insane ramblings.

 

“You would cast away so many lives?” Thor asked, horrified, casting his mind over his friends, all the people he knew and had ever known. “For what purpose, why must things go _backwards_?”

 

“Because it increases their control,” Loki suddenly hissed, red eyes narrowed. Odin and Laufey had joined forces. If…if that alliance lasted beyond Ragnarök…if they joined forced that much earlier in the history of Yggdrasil…Odin turned his face to Loki, and his expression of pity and condescension, one that echoed consistently across the many memories crammed into his head. It made his eyes narrow further, face contorted into an expression of tight, cold fury. “If the worlds ended and begin again, and he and his… _kind_ , are the only one to retain their memories, they can keep an ever-greater control each time.”

 

“You agreed with us once,” Odin reminded him, voice cool even as he tried to convince them, “You used to be, as you say, _one of my kind_ , both of you were. You understood Ragnarök, the meaning and important behind it, and you _helped_. This is proof of just how far things have slipped from where they should be; you should both be in Asgard, aiding the coming of Ragnarök. Not here, hiding away on Midgard, so far placed from your true forms…you, Thor, wearing the skin of a human…”

 

He sounded so horrified, so close to disgusted, that Thor bristled, insulted. “You were the one to first make me mortal,” he accused Odin. “When you banished me to Midgard, you made my mortal until I…until I…” he frowned, the memory flickering in and out. He remembered, suddenly, being on Midgard, being slammed into by a truck. He remembered the sweet face of a woman, of _Jane_ , his mind supplied, but nothing else. He could feel Loki’s gaze on him, fingers tightening their grip on his shirt as the frost giant wondered just how much, just what Thor was remembering. Thor kept his gaze on Odin however, waiting for the god’s response.

 

“Yes, that is true,” Odin admitted, with the air of one who hated to admit he was wrong, but was trying to act like it came easily to him, “I made you mortal, I hoped it would teach you valuable lessons for your time as King of Asgard. I was, unfortunately, wrong. You became too soft, to caring. There is wisdom for a King, but there is also the ferocity of a warrior. After Loki chose to throw himself from the bifrost-“

 

“ _Threw_ myself?” Loki echoed incredulously,

 

“You became obsessed with bringing him back. Whatever passed between the two of you in your battle on the bifrost, it stemmed from what had changed between you from your time on Jotunheim to your time on Midgard. A chain of events was sparked that I could not have foreseen. I thought…” a deep sigh was heaved, and Loki briefly wondered if Odin enjoyed the sound of his own voice more than Loki enjoyed the sound of his own, “I thought sending you after Loki when he appeared on Midgard would set things on track, we could bind him to the rock and at last bring about the rightful course of events, but…but you met the _Avengers._ ”

 

Avengers.

 

_Avengers._

 

The word rolled around Thor’s head, echoing. Then suddenly, suddenly, came the flood.

 

The rainbow bridge had brought back a single memory, a memory of Loki. The sight of the Allmother, Frigga, only incited faint sensations and ghosts of emotions. Yet, with a single word, with the thought, the taste, the sound of _Avengers_ cascading within his mind, Thor became bombarded with memories, with sensations, exhilaration and laughter and belonging, even on a world not his own. The snapping sound of a bowstring echoed in his mind, the explosion of guns following swiftly. A red suited, metallic figure shooting past his vision, a circular shield decorated with stars, a giant green monster. At first, opposing Loki, precious Loki but mad and furious, surrounded by an army, or by a whirlwind or any other kind of disaster he could make, but then Loki beside him, Loki with him and his team, with the _Avengers_ …

 

Suddenly it fell into place. The flood of memories had been fast and furious, unlike the trickle Loki had experienced, meant that they faded quickly from Thor’s mind. But details remained, and it was details he clung to.

 

“Tony…Steve…Bruce…” he breathed out each of their names, visions flickering across the backs of his eyes and he associated memory with memory. Yes, of course, the half metal Tony, who had once encased his body in red and gold. Steve, the kindest, most noble person he knew, proudly wearing the emblem of his land. And the gentle, quiet Bruce, who could be made to erupt into anger and ferocity with the right provocation, although perhaps not to the extent he had once erupted out of his skin and into a towering beast. “They were the Avengers. I met them so long ago…and I, I was one too. I fought alongside them, we fought _together_ …”

 

Thor’s mind was reeling, and he felt Loki cling to him in worry, felt sudden warmth within his chest that spread up to his mind, easing the confusion and clearing his mind. He could just imagine the glowing of Loki’s tattoos, and squeezed him gratefully.

 

“They were my friends,” he directed at Odin, gathering his thoughts, “my comrades, and my brothers in arms. You would try to take them from me?”

 

“You were never meant for them!” Odin exploded, “You, a Prince of Asgard, dallying and wasting your days in the company of mortals and _monsters_? You were born for the greatest the Nine Realms had to offer, not for the lowest of the nine, so arrogant in their beliefs, so certain of their knowledge that they denied our very existence, and cut themselves off from us. They do not deserve to _serve_ you, let alone fight alongside you.”

 

“So you forced us away,” Loki interposed quietly, drawing attention to him. “You did separate us the both of us from the Avengers, you cut off our access to Earth.” Then, suddenly, a twitch at his lips. “And yet, you were unable to separate us,” he continued, and Thor couldn’t help but grin a little at the smugness in Loki’s voice, even under such circumstances. “Won’t you tell him, Odin Allfather?” Loki enticed cruelly, clinging to Thor almost viciously, possessively, “I’d tell him myself, but I could never quite accomplish the certain unique disgust you have always managed to capture quite so well when discuss my _many_ faults.”

 

Odin’s eye was narrowed and stormy, but he did as Loki demanded, although he kept his tone even, “Despite…despite you each being betrothed, and you Thor, set to become King as soon as I entered my next Odinsleep, you began…to see each other. Too much of each other.”

 

Loki cackled, low and mocking in tone, “ _‘see each other’_ ,” he whispered, just loud enough for Thor to pick up on, “Oh we certainly saw _plenty_ of each other…” Thor was blank for a moment, and then it sunk in. Sunk completely in, until he turned his now incredulous gaze back to Odin.

 

“So what?” he asked, and told himself firmly that it was a not a tremble that ran through his voice, “so, we, _saw_ each other. So we were together. So what? If we wanted to be together, we should have been allowed to just be together-“

 

“You were _betrothed_ , Thor,” Odin growled,

 

“Then the betrothals should have been ended!” he shot back, angry and frustrated as his words fell on apparently deaf ears. Odin just shook his head sadly, condescendingly.

 

“They were bound by laws beyond our control to happen, to continue the cycle we ourselves set out millennia ago. For events to progress, as they should, you were bound to marry as dictated. But you refused to listen to reason. You ran.” Odin heaved a heavy sigh, and suddenly the years were showing on his face, “you ran, and you fell.”

 

The pit of Thor’s stomach turned cold, churning uneasily. He was suddenly horrible aware of the drop just behind him, the memory of hanging from it still trickling through his mind. “We fell?” He echoed softly. Loki’s arms squeezed around his waist tightly.

 

“I do not know, even now, whether it was accident or deliberate dishonour that drove you from the edge of the Bifrost,” Odin told him, “but it does not matter. You were lost to us, and as such all our ways were lost. The events that would have otherwise been set in motion had been ground to a halt without you. We mourned, we searched for a route out and then suddenly, we found it.” Odin’s eye lit up faintly at the memory. “Heimdall had been searching for any sign of you, searched for any sign that you might have survived. Then suddenly, he found you. Both of you, together. We acted immediately, bringing you back to Asgard, to raise you as the Princes you were, reading to set things as they should be.” There was a pause, hesitation, and Loki’s eyes narrowed.

 

“So what went wrong?” he asked, half wanting to ignore every word that fell from Odin’s lips, like lies that even he had not the malice to spin, half hanging on every word, drinking them in without care for lies or truth.

 

“You became close yet again,” Odin admitted, the taste of rage fringing his words, “Once again we tried to end the attachment, and once again you died, trying to flee. This time the wounds you received should not have been enough to kill you, they would not have killed a god…but we discovered that you had not been eating any of Idunn’s apples.”

 

It clicked.

 

“The Apple Ceremony?” Thor questioned incredulously, the mere thought of it and the fruit it centred around making him wince in distaste. A deprecating grin spread across Odin’s face as he saw the movement of Thor’s facial muscles. Thor tried to reign in his expression, but he had already been seen, his reaction observed and catalogued by Odin’s sharp eye.

 

“Indeed. You continued to run, life after life, dying of _mortal_ wounds, all because each and every time from that moment on, refused to consume the apples that would save you. The Ceremony was established, for a single purpose. After you had died, and continued to die, the tightly curled spiral of destiny began to unravel, events we could not predict began to occur, and there were…other deaths. Unexpected, unexplained. We grew weaker. But, like you, they began to reincarnate, to be brought back to us. We found them, and unlike you, they received the apples gladly. Laufey, your mother, Loki, was the first to return, then his other sons, the Lady Sif, the Warriors Three…Balder, your brother, Thor. They all came back to their rightful places. Now all that’s left is for you to return, and all will be as it should be.” Odin fixed them with a piercing gaze, “You need to stop fighting this! The longer you drag things out, the worse things becomes for all of us. Every time you are reborn, you drive yourselves further and further from your rightful places, until you do not even remember yourself or your role, until you are born worlds away with not a trace of æsir blood within you,” _and oh, there was the disgust in Odin’s voice_ , “your lives completely bent to the wills of fate and chance, as they were never meant to be. You both were meant to stand _above_ such things as fate. We are Gods. We carve our paths and the paths of others; guide them as we guide ourselves. That is what your souls have forgotten, and that is what must be righted for the fate of the Nine Realms to be as it should.” Odin finished, spreading his arms outwards in a gesture that hinted at grandness, but in the end just looked tired.

 

“I can only assume you do not realise how badly your own words clash. I can barely understand you!” Surprisingly, it was Thor who spoke these scathing words, although they were accompanied by a tone of genuine confusion and upset, as opposed to the cutting edge Loki would have provided. “You speak of standing above destiny, of carving our own paths, is that not what we have done? We are here, together, because we have chosen to be so. It is no one but you that wishes for us to bow to fate!” he tried to puzzle it out, looking down to Loki as if he might have the answers. Loki could only shrug his confusion in return, although the tired look in his eyes told Thor clearly that Loki had heard this reasoning before, and had long since stopped trying to understand.

 

Odin, meanwhile, was steadying himself against Gugnir, fingers clenched tightly around it. “Thor,” he said evenly, tone calm and reasonable “it doesn’t have to be this way. You can come back home. The Warriors Three are waiting for you; the Lady Sif is waiting for you. Do not put them through more torment. Do not put your _mother_ through more torment.”

 

Thor’s chest thumped painfully at the mention of Frigga, the only one besides Loki that he had any real recollection of. Loki had felt the palpitation he knew, he could feel the slender fingers pressed to the fabric covering the part of his chest that his heart lay within. Yet even as his memory was filled with warmth and care at the thought of his once mother, Thor could only smile grimly.

 

“I do not have a mother, Odin. I am Thor, Son-of-no-one.” He said simple, and Loki’s head twisted around to stare at him in half shock, that was swiftly swamped with fierce adoration. Thor did not look at him, but squeezed him tightly beneath the cloak. “Do not think that you can call us back with memories of the past.”

 

“Thor…you don’t have to die with me,” Loki interjected suddenly, voice soft but urgent. “You could live on, you could go…go with them, and live in the splendour of Asgard. Would you really hate it so just because I was not there?”

 

“If you are not there, there is no reason for me living,” Thor said simply. “Eating the apples, living in glory, surrounded by splendour…if you are not there, there is no point to any of it.” He glanced over to Odin, who still had them pinned with a deep gaze, the corner of his lips twitching subtly.

 

“We will always find you.” Odin intruded upon the conversation to promise them grimly. “You will always find each other, in every life, and as soon as you meet, we will know where to find you. Stop torturing yourselves and those around you by running.” He took a step forward, and Thor’s heel once again brushed thin air behind them. “The both of you, just come home.” Odin implored.

 

“Could we be together, _really_ together, if we came with you?” Loki asked suddenly, his gaze searching as he stared at Odin. Thor suddenly felt a vibration in his pocket, but resisted looking to see its source, praying that his guess was right. Odin hadn’t noticed anything, and looked uncomfortable as he admitted,

 

“No. Thor would be required to marry the Lady Sif, and you with your own consort. You would be brothers once again, but nothing more.”

 

“Then we’re sorry,” Thor interjected before Loki could reply, “but we cannot do as you ask. Unless we are able to be together,” he cupped the side of Loki’s face, “it will never be home. Our home is _always_ in each others arms.”

 

And with that, he threw himself and Loki off the edge of the bridge.


	14. The River

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I’ve seen enough now to know that beautiful things  
>  Don’t always stay that way  
> I’ve done enough now to know this beautiful place  
> Isn’t everything they say._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think today's lyrics are pretty indicative of Asgard in its entirety.

Odin’s shout of shock was lost in the rush of air as it shot past their bodies, Loki clutching Thor tighter than he had ever done before, his eyes screwed shut. But Thor’s arms stayed strong around him and suddenly, without warning, they were no longer falling but shooting sideways, hair whipping past their faces. Loki’s eyes cracked open and he glanced down, squeaking as he saw the water rushing below them, then up to see the rainbow bridge above them and, beside that, the face of Tony Start, contorted with concentration and effort.

 

“You…” Loki breathed out, brain unable to comprehend what was happening.

 

“It’s ok, Loki,” Thor’s voice suddenly spoke, and Loki’s eyes shot to his face, red eyes meeting blue. “Tony has been working on the means to fly for quite some time. We were highly fortunate that it was finished in time to save us today,”

 

“Yeeees, weeeeell…don’t thank me until we’re back on dry land,” Tony’s voice suddenly came, strained, from above them. Sweat was showing up as a sheen across his face, and Loki and Thor closed their mouths tightly, painfully aware that the struggling mechanic was the only thing keeping them in the air.

 

Thankfully, they reached the cliff side that the bridge jutted out from quickly enough, Tony all but dropping them onto the rocks before crashing onto them himself, the machinery clamped around his legs and granting him flight spluttering and giving out. “Those aren’t going to be working for me again any time soon…” he grumbled, reaching down to pull apart the machines, into several pieces that lay scattered around him as he pulled himself off of the couple.

 

“Thank you for saving us,” Thor told him sincerely. Tony dismissed it with a flippant wave of his hand, far more interested in surveying the damage to the boots than he was in the thanks of a former god.

 

Loki, in a fit of tactile affection, flopped his head onto Thor’s shoulder. He could feel his heart still hammering beneath his skin, fast paced and worryingly jumpy. “I…was not expecting that in the slightest.” Saying it out loud suddenly seemed to make it real, and Loki could feel himself go boneless as he slumped completely against Thor. “Oh Gods, I thought you actually meant to kill the both of us there and then.”

 

“That makes two of us,” Thor choked, leaning back against Loki as they supported each other. Tony’s hand flew up in the air,

 

“Make that the three of us. When I gave you that switch I didn’t press it thinking I would arrive to find you both plummeting to your deaths. Thank the gods it was flying I’d been working on and a new kind of running shoes.”

 

“Don’t say plummeted,” Loki protested, face pale, “and don’t you dare thank them either. Not those bastard, not ever.” He clutched at Thor, anxious for any kind of support, relishing the feel of solid ground. Tony glanced around them, having almost recovered, and gathered the pieces into his arms.

 

“I think we need to get going,” Tony declared. Loki turned to look at him, blearily,

 

“Why must we do that? Can’t I enjoy the feel of solid ground for a little longer?” he asked. Tony sent him a disapproving look.

 

“Come on Loki, you’re the smart one. Don’t you think this is a perfect opportunity?”

 

Blank faces from both Thor and Loki, and Tony heaved a dramatic sigh. “Odin saw you fall off the bridge,” Tony said slowly, “and I happen to know he did not see me catch you. I was flying below the bridge as it was, luckily for you. I thought an element of surprise would be more effective, and it was just fortunate for you that it meant I saw you…” he gestured with a plummeting gesture. “Well. Point is. This is a window of opportunity for you, and Loki? I believe you will be particularly interested in what we’ve been doing in your absence.”

 

That piqued Loki’s interest, as he remembered his request to Tony before they had left.

 

“You found something?” he said eagerly, finally finding the strength to pull himself to his feet, reaching back to help Thor stand too.

 

“Found what?” Thor asked, curious. Tony gaze a half grin,

 

“Come back and have a look.” He said, turning to walk, the others following him, Loki with a renewed sense of eagerness, Thor with growing expectation.

 

~

 

“Mythology, you told me. Stories of our lords and masters, your piece of paper told me,” Tony pinned Loki with a look, “You never told me half of them included you.” Loki kept his expression still, eyes cast down at the stories, and he internally grimaced. Of course. He hadn’t expected to be discussing the myths with Tony, and indeed it hadn’t quite occurred to him since the memories in his head made the stories seem like old tales that everyone knew. To Tony, of course, finding Loki in them would have been a surprise. To see Thor in them too must have been quite the shock.

 

“I’d have explained to you if I’d had the time,” Loki offered. “I wouldn’t have preferred for you to find out this way, trust me. Although I suppose you’re more likely to believe what I say having seen the proof before you,” he sighed.

 

“Proof of what, exactly?” Tony asked carefully. Careful, but his tone was not closed or unaccepting, he was at least open-minded and willing to listen. Loki was thankful for that.

 

“Thor and I are reincarnations. Of gods, who were alive thousands of years ago, long before the Nine Realms were ruled by a single power. Odin and Laufey believe us to be their children, Thor an Odinson and myself a…a Laufeyson.” Tony’s gaze remained distant, and Loki continued, “It’s like…you’ve seen some gods appear in your lifetime. Like Býleistr, he’s only been there for a decade. He was like Thor and myself, reborn and living without memories. He was found by Asgard and…converted.” He frowned at his own choice of word. _Converted_. But it was true, he thought. Those who had appeared in the ranks of the Gods had never showed any kind of remorse or longing for their old lives, as far as he had seen. Never had there been even a hint that Býleistr or Helblindi didn’t regard Laufey as their parent, never a sign that Sif or any of the Asgardians had been raised as anything but gods. Did they forget what came before? Loki’s stomach churned with unhappiness; he did not want to forget.

 

Tony’s mouth opened, about to reply, when a flustered, out of breath blonde suddenly burst into the room. "They've captured Angrboda and Sigyn," Thor shouted out in a hurry, as he burst into the room. “Your friends Loki, Asgard has them!” Loki’s head whipped around to face him, but his expression was initially one of confusion,

 

“What- How do you know their names?” he asked. Steve entered behind Thor, providing answers,

 

“I was just outside. I overheard two Einherjar speaking; they must have been the same men who discovered you were here from following you. They were talking about two women you visited, they called them Angrboda and Sigyn. They said they had been captured.” Steve sent him an apologetic look, as if somehow their capture was his fault, and not Loki’s. Thor’s expression was impatient, blame was not factoring into his mind, only the knowledge that it was not only himself and Loki being chased after, that others had been snatched away also.

 

"We must save them!" he insisted, attempting to redirect the conversation to what he perceived as its necessary conclusion.

 

"Oh, do we have to?" Loki asked, inappropriately aghast at the thought of having to go after the diminutive frost giantess who caused him so much trouble. Regaining memories of being in a relationship with her had to have been the most unpleasant part of the whole experience. Regardless of everything else that had happened, Loki marvelled at her ability to even cause him grief long-distance. Thor on the other hand, looked mortally offended at the thought of not saving them.

 

"Loki, be serious. They need our help!" He protested. "We cannot abandon them. We must-“

 

“Isn’t that exactly what they want though?” Tony suddenly cut across. Both Jotun and Midgardian turned to stare at him. He leant against the doorframe, arms crossed as he shrugged. “Hey, Loki’s thinking it to, I’m just vocalising it. After they found out your survived the fall, of course they were going to find a way to come after you. Angrboda and Sigyn amount to little more than bait.”

 

“A little more than bait, actually,” entered a new voice, and Tony turned his head to see Bruce appear behind Steve, the blonde moving to the side to allow he brunette pass. Bruce’s arms were so filled he could barely carry his cargo, clutching a mixed collection of media, ranging from the now very rare paper books and scrolls, to the commonly used tablets in his arms. Steve hurried to take part of his burden, and the two of them moved to spread it across the floor alongside the information Tony had already laid out.

 

“We’ve been doing research,” Bruce said quietly, ”we adapted our search a little after you told us what Odin said, about obeying the path of the old myths? It…it took a long time to find any information…a lot of it seems to have been destroyed, and gone missing, but…we did find out…Sigyn and Angrboda are both part of the myths too. They were both Loki’s...umm…wives? Consorts?” Bruce looked at Loki a little helplessly as he searched for the right word. Loki just shrugged awkwardly. He really didn’t want to remember this in any more detail than he already did.

 

Thor’s expression had darkened until it resembled the thunderclouds he had so often summoned in his first life. “This is unforgivable,” he muttered darkly. “It is one thing to chase us to try and force us back into former lives, but to force such a fate upon others too? They cannot get away with this. We can’t let them get away with this!” he slammed his fist down.

 

“I agree. This isn’t right, and we can’t let it happen.” Steve said firmly, Bruce and Tony nodding in agreement, faces grim. “We could go with you to the palace, to save them. We’ll help you,” Steve continued, and Loki’s eyes widened, Thor’s face showing similar shock.

 

“Steve…are you sure?” Loki asked, incredulous, before turning to Tony and to Bruce in turn, “are you all sure about this?” He floundered, trying to find the words to encompass what he was feeling.

 

_Surprise –_

_Disbelief –_

_Gratefulness._

_Such intense gratefulness._

 

“Thank you,” he said, finally, lips spreading into a weak but sincere smile. “We will never be able to repay you for this,” he told them. Steve smiled at him; the same smile as before Loki and Thor had tried to run again.

 

“You don’t need to thank someone for doing the right thing,” he said, but Loki shook his head.

 

“I think we do,” he countered. “I think you forget not everyone is so noble as you.” Loki offered his own smile, a small, tentative thing, like a creature nervous of emerging into the light. Steve returned it with a sad tilt to his lips, and Loki realised that Steve had indeed forgotten that not everyone was noble. So there were differences even there between two lifetimes. Tony watched their interaction with his own subtle grin, before he turned serious.

 

“Oh, look at you two precious babies, bonding away there. I hate to be the one to spoil the mood, but how exactly are we going to get there? To Asgard?” Tony asked, voice doubtful. “They’ll have the bifrost piled high with security now, regardless of whether they think you’re dead or not. If they don’t find bodies they’ll keep looking.”

 

“Would they really be that determined to find them again?” Bruce asked. It wasn’t quite doubt in his voice, but it might have been disbelief. His gaze turned from Tony to Thor and Loki, “Would they?” Loki stayed silent for a moment, before his gaze lifted to face Bruce.

 

“If they think there’s even a chance we survived, they will not stop searching for us,” he said softly.

 

Thor’s brown creased into a frown, “They Tony is right, we will have no way to even reach Asgard, let alone the Palace,” he protested. Loki’s eyes narrowed, as he sunk deep into thought.

 

“You leave the travel to me,” he said thoughtfully, and Thor’s eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion. “I will find us a way.”

 

Thor said nothing, realising when it was a lost cause to try and deter Loki from his course. He tried to wrestle down the feeling of helplessness.

 

~

 

Sif felt helpless as she sat at the window of her sleeping chambers, feet curled up underneath her, neck craned as she stared at the outside world, at the golden gateways as she eagerly watched for Helblindi and Balder’s return, waiting to see if they had ben successful this time or not. There was an itch under her skin, and urgent restlessness that made her want to scream; to jump up and run, to fight, to just do _something_.

 

That was impossible to do though. In the beginning, when this life had still been new and full of possibilities to her, she had asked the Warriors Three if they wanted to go hunting with her, and they had all looked at her with identical expressions of a shocked lack of comprehension as to what she meant.

 

 _“But you would spoil your dress,”_ Fandral had finally said, helplessly, and Sif’s mouth had fallen open. Spoil her dress? What did she care for _dresses_? Surely they remembered that she didn’t wear dresses, not usually, the only reason she had even donned one in the first place upon her arrival was at Odin’s insistence hat her return needed to be celebrated, that it was only a temporary thing and that life would go back to normal swiftly…

 

Sif had in fact all but launched herself at Fandral in fury, kicking and punching viciously at his attempt to treat her like he would any of the other ladies at court. He had looked shocked and startled and, to her increasing fury, had refused to lift a hand in retaliation. Instead it had been the servants that had come running to pulled her off him, holding her hands by her side as she glowered furiously at first Fandral, but moving on to include Hogun and Volstagg in her glare. How dare they. She didn’t even fully understand the significance of what had just taken place but it still infuriated her, the slowly dawning realisation on what would eventually grow into bitter, helpless understanding of how she had been tricked, and trapped.

 

She only had one role now, Odin had explained to her slowly, like she were a child, and that was to marry Thor. She was not to be a warrior, no matter what her blood sung for; she was to be a queen and eventually a mother. At first she had protested; she had kicked and screamed and fought as hard and as furiously as possible. But her struggles were only met by gentle, yet firm, hands holding her back, soothing words being mumbled in her ears, telling her to _calm down_ , to be more _ladylike_. For every dress she tore or discarded two more would take its place. And so eventually she had succumbed. She had stopped throwing out the dresses, and snapping the pieces of jewellery. She had allowed herself to be dressed and polished and shaped into something she knew, deep down, she was not.

 

The Warriors Three had avoided seeing her for weeks after that, until one day they had stumbled across her in the gardens, and tense pleasantries had been exchanged. There was not a single mention of battle or weapons, either the speculation of the future or the remembrance of the past. And Sif wondered if history had always ben so very easy to re-write. She had been told her future so many times, pressed upon her with such certainty and force that it was all she could do not to succumb to their words.

 

As she closed her eyes, the often-described vision was clear in her mind. Herself, in purest white, gilded with silver and gold, topped by swathes of crimson fabric, maybe even a cloak, flowing around her as she made her way down the aisle towards Thor. Thor would of course be in full Asgardian armour, the silver in each of their attires complementing the other. Thor's helmet would obscure most of his hair, but hers would more than make up for it; tumbling down her back in thick, flaxen curls, delicately curled, plaited and interwoven with more precious metal to celebrate her wedding. Thor, the perfect warrior prince marrying her, Sif, the perfect model of a princess-

 

_The sudden snap of weapons and a dancing of viscous battle and clashing limbs-_

Violent, exhilarating images of war and death flashed across her mind and she let out a high, startled noise, her hands shooting up to snatch at handfuls of her pitch black hair, yanking it forward over her shoulders, ripping it out of its carefully styled coiffure on the process.

 

It was still black. Still hers. She breathed a heavy sigh of relief, clutching the locks tightly. She hadn't yet relinquished the last of her identity, despite the pressure always building from Odin and the warriors three. What she had once considered the most dismal aspect of her appearance was now the only thing left she felt she could call her own. When Loki has chopped off her golden hair she was certain she would never forgive him, that she would jump at the tiniest chance to have her hair back the way it was. Now, she was thankful for every day she woke up to find it had not been tampered with overnight, and remained black. If Sif ever saw Loki again, she mused grimly, she'd probably even thank him.

 

The sudden sounds of screaming and fighting distracted her from her thoughts, in particular the fact that it was female voice that were raised to high battle cries and screeches of protest. However, the raging voice was soon joined by the shouts of Einherjar, including several grunts of protests. Unable to contain her curiosity (indeed, indulging her curiosity) Sif strode swiftly to her door, opening it just a creak to peer into the hallway. Her eyes widen in surprise at the sight of two strangers, two women with their backs to her. One with long blonde hair half tied in a messy braid, who was standing back quietly from the conflict. The other, the real troublemaker had long ash blue limbs, another of which smacked the nearest Einherjar in the face, sending his sprawling. Sif pushed the door open further, watching the Jotun woman fight with barely concealed mirth.

 

The blonde woman turned at the sound of the door. The familiar face of her once-acquaintance, Sigyn, struck Sif and as the other woman twisted around, Sif realised she recognised this woman too. Loki’s consort, the giantess Angrboda. Both of Loki’s consorts, Jotun and Æsir both, now in the hands of Asgard. Sif had of course realised from the second there had been a commotion that the guards must have found another reincarnated piece in the King’s long drawn out game. It was clear from Sigyn’s gaze, that although she was curious at the sight of Sif, there was no recognition in her eyes, no knowledge of who Sif was beyond what she’d seen at the Apple Ceremonies. Angrboda, however, was an entirely different story. The was instant recognition on her face, and her lips twisted into a sneer even as the Einherjar finally pinned her arms back and pulled her down to her knees. Her clothes were torn and dirty, but her eyes were sharp and mocking, the gentle brown colour at odds with her sneering face and fierce gaze.

 

“Oh behold!” she spat out, and Sif couldn’t look away from where their eyes had met, “Behold the princess, dainty Sif, waiting for her prince in shining armour.” One of the guards dragged her back roughly, tried to silence her, “But your prince isn’t coming!” Angrboda crowed, “He’s got someone else, he’s _with_ someone else, and you will never even get the chance to be _second best choice_.”

 

Sif stood speechless, stunned, as the Einherjar pulled her back roughly once again, jabbing her neck abruptly and causing Angrboda’s body to go lax, and she collapsed down, supported only by the Einherjar. Sigyn let out a cry at that, dashing forward out of the loose hold of her of guard, and crouching beside Angrboda, pressing a worried hand to her cheek. The Einherjar paid her little mind, hoisting Angrboda up over one shoulder and taking her into a room just a little further down the corridor. Sigyn followed without a struggle, apparently eager to check on the Jotun’s health. The Einherjar eventually exited the room, locking it securely behind them.

 

“We apologise deeply for that display, Lady Sif,” was their apology, accompanied by deep bows. “They have not yet partaken of the apples, and as such…”

 

“No, no, it’s fine. I am well, do not concern yourselves,” Sif said firmly, and was surprised at the strength in her own voice. “I can manage by myself,” she dismissed them as they attempted to guide her with overly gentle hands back to her chambers. She swept ahead of them by herself, slamming the door closed behind her. Her heart was racing as she leant back against the door, trying to take in everything she had just seen. This was important. This was big. Normally any new arrivals were made to take the apples immediately. Saving them for a ceremony was not done; a ceremony could always be held after they had been acclimatised to Asgard. Yet they had not done that for Angrboda and Sigyn. That was important. That was something…big. Something different.

 

Something was coming. Maybe even Thor. Maybe even Loki. Sif pushed herself off of the door and moved to stare at the window. Regardless of what Angrboda had said, Sif could feel it in her bones. Whether he was _her_ prince or not, Thor would come, and he would bring Loki with him as he always had. Together, Sif knew beyond all certainty that the two of them had the potential to do anything. And Sif intended to be ready for it when they arrived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's brewing their own little schemes…
> 
> Hope you're all still enjoying this! ^^


	15. Storming the Palace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Many familiar faces make appearances.

“So we just…what…walk through the gates?” Steve asked, dubiously, as they gazed at the gleaming golden structure just a little way away from them. They were all in hooded cloaks, travel from the house to Asgard having been a complex and secretive affair, Loki willingly diving into his old memories to locate the passages between world that he had so often travelled many lifetimes back. The experience had left his woozy with resurfaced memories, taking him a few moments to return to reality. Even now information was popping up in his head, tangling itself in his mind and forcing him to question very memory he came across, wincing away his worry and attempting not to let the others see.

 

“That is exactly what we’re going to do.” Loki said, voice grim. He raised his hand; mind focusing on the guards at the gate, and with a sleep of glowing fingers had them slump to their knees, before collapsing to the ground. Loki ran forward immediately the others following him hastily. Loki looked up to the gates, before gesturing once again, the gates suddenly shimmering like a mirage. The group were able to step through it as easily as if it were a mirage too. To Loki’s surprise there was no one in the courtyard, and he hung back even as the others pressed forward, only Steve stopping beside him and gazing out with equal trepidation across the empty ground.

 

“Guys? Guys! Stop!” Steve hissed, and Loki forced himself to hurry forward with Steve to catch up with their friends, now recklessly exposed. “We can’t just run out like this! They will see us!” he reprimanded them. Bruce and Thor had the decency to look chastened, but Tony just snorted.

 

“Steve, there’s no one here! It’s not like they were expecting us, so it’s hardly going to be a trap. If there’s no one here, there’s no one he-“

 

Suddenly Tony was cut short, as an arrow shot out of nowhere, and Loki was barely fast enough to whip his arm around, deflecting the pointed tip so it buried itself into the ground rather than into Steve’s neck, as had been its intended target. There was a sound like a whip and Loki spun around once again, this time his magic shooting out in a golden streak to deflect the next arrow, only for this one to explode and send the other scattering even more than when the first had been fired. “Stay calm!” he snapped, but was promptly ignored. Loki thought, whilst he didn’t wan the others to recover memories, he wished they could recover their ability to work calmly and coolly together in a tough situation. Throwing out his arms, he finally solved the problem by erecting a shield around them, shimmering gold before it faded to transparent, the only evidence left of its existence being the glowing along his arms and the next arrow, which promptly dissolved to nothingness upon meeting the barrier.

 

 _Arrows_. Arrows were significant. Loki knew this, he knew who they came from…there was a sudden thump, and Loki turned to see a brown-haired man emerge from under a tree, bow still drawn with an arrow already nocked, and dressed in the elaborate uniform of the Asgard’s guardians, the Einherjar. Loki dropped the barrier without even realising it, as remembrance hit him like a thunderbolt.

 

“Clint Barton!” Loki declared in loud surprise, and beside him Thor gave a jerk, as finally the whistling sound of arrows in his memory gained an associated face alongside them. Clint looked equally surprised at Loki suddenly calling out his name. Loki continued to stare at him, remembering his first meeting with the man. _You have heart_ , he had said. Seeing Clint dressed in the uniform of the Æsir Einherjar, bow still drawn ready to fire on them, Loki hoped that he had not lost that heart the Jotun had seen in him, and had not been changed by the ideologies and influence of the people he had no doubt been exposed to working here.

 

Thor meanwhile was glancing around with sudden suspicion and apprehension, his memories fuelling the controlled panic beneath his skin. He was on edge at the sight of Clint, but more importantly, of the sight of Clint _alone._ Because if Clint was here, then there was no doubt, Thor knew with absolute certainty that nearby-

 

“Drop your weapons,” came the sudden female voice, and Bruce let out a cry. Thor spun around to see Steve staring at Bruce in panic, and in particular at the slender redheaded woman who has a knife to Bruce’s throat and a gun aimed at the others.

 

“Natasha Romanov,” Thor was the one to say her name, and sharp eyes immediately snapped towards him, analysing him, deconstructing everything about him that she can in her head with a single glance.

 

“How do you know my name?” she asked, voice low and full of suspicion.

 

“I’d ask the same, but I think I know why you know my name,” Clint spoke up, drawing attention to him. He had lost his offensive pose and had his hands shoved in his pockets, bow slung on his back as he studied Loki closely. Loki hadn’t even moved when Natasha had appeared, staying completely focused on the archer. “…Loki?” Clint half-asked, half-stated finally, definite recognition on his face, “wow, you’re lucky I recognise you. You were a lot less blue, how I remember you.”

 

“Times change,” Loki tossed back easily, “you were a lot less Æsir last I saw you.”

 

“I’m not actually æsir you know,” Clint protested, glancing down with a wrinkled nose at the armour encasing his body, “I just happen to work here and they don’t give you a choice with the uniform. It was this or naked.”

 

“Are you two really having this conversation? Right here, right now? Seriously?” Tony piped up, staring back and forth between the conversation between Loki and Clint, and Bruce, who still had a knife pressed to his neck.

 

“Oh, sure, right. Nat, I’d let him go,” Clint said easily, and Natasha’s eyes narrowed. Clint scoffed a little, “come on. You’ve told me about your dreams too. Tell me this isn’t it. Tell me this isn’t what we’ve both been waiting for.” Natasha paused for a moment longer, before her arms dropped down, and Bruce leapt away from her, moving to stand just behind Steve, who was looking particularly tall and strong in that moment, if not quite the brightest thanks to the look of perfect confusion on his face.

 

“Can someone please tell me what’s going on?” he asked finally, exasperatedly.

 

“Clint Barton, member of the Einherjar,” Clint gave a little mock salute, “but back when we first met, I’m pretty sure I went by the name Hawkeye.” He glanced over to Loki, who gave a little snort, crossing his arms.

 

“Hawkeye…?” Steve echoed, his eyes narrowed at the archer. Thor swore for a second he saw a flash of memory, of recognition within them but it quickly faded, leaving Steve with a confused but somewhat intrigued look. Thor didn’t know whether to hope he had remembered something or hope he remained ignorance. If he started to remember things he might not stop, but for mutual recognition…to have Clint on their side would be such an advantage. Not to mention the still deadly redheaded woman who was still allied with the Hawk, still looking at them with suspicion.

 

“They’ve given you the memory story, right?” Clint continued, either oblivious to or not caring about the look on Natasha’s face. “Obviously I haven’t met you guys before but we’ve seen others come here with memories. Well, I guess I’d be one of those people with memories, me and Nat both. Regardless of how much she wants to ignore them.” Natasha’s gaze snapped around to him, and Thor realised that the two of them had a similar connection to that between himself and Loki. He could see it in their eyes, communication without words. Suddenly the conversation was over, and Natasha turned back, shoulders minutely relaxed. They were no longer a threat, and Loki breathed a sigh of relief.

 

“Very well,” Natasha finally spoke, and her tone was as cool as it had always been. “We will assist you. If we pretend to have apprehended you, we can get a fair way into the Palace without anyone notice.” She said nothing about whether she had remembered them or not, but Thor and to an extent Loki could see it in her posture, in the tilt of her head and, most obviously, the way she slid her knives away and out of sight.

 

“Pretend to be prisoners?” Tony butted in, voice dripping with scepticism, “that sounds…well, like the most transparent attempt to get us to come quietly that I’ve ever heard.” He turned to Loki and Thor, “Are you guys seriously going to do this? There are so many holes in this plan I can’t even begin to start unpicking them-“

 

“Tony. I trust them.”

 

It was Steve who had spoken, and his voice made Tony fall silent. He was still staring at his former teammates with an expression of intense concentration, but the resolution was in his eyes. Just as Natasha was putting her faith in Clint, Steve was going to put his in Thor and Loki’s judgement. Clint looked between everyone’s faces, the bow hanging in his hands as he quirked an eyebrow at them, grinning. “Well then,” he said, “let’s get started.”

 

~

 

Thor felt it as soon as he entered the Palace. It was like an intense ringing in his ears, a singing sound that made his brow furrow with pain. He wriggled his hands, held behind his back in loose bindings, easy to shake off. He wished he could pull himself free to rub the pain out of his forehead but it was vital they didn’t spoil this. Natasha was ahead of the group, leading them forwards, with Clint taking up the rear, his bow once again drawn in a show of suspicion.

 

They were making remarkably good progress, navigating a tangle of corridors leading in, and emerging into an open greeting area which lead off to many parts of the Palace. However, good things always came to and end, as they emerged out into the area just as a group of Einherjar did. Tony swore sharply and softly under his breath, and Thor was inclined to do the same, were his head not still pounding. It didn’t feel like an oncoming memory…so just what was it…?

 

Natasha kept her head held high as the other Einherjar approached, not so much as flinching at the sight of them. “Greetings,” she said calmly as they approached, clearly intent upon speaking to her, many curious glances being thrown the ‘prisoners’’ way.

 

“Greetings Lady Natasha,” the Einherjar leading the group greeted her. His uniform was slightly different to those around him, slightly more gilded and with a more extravagant helmet. “What are you doing so far into the Palace? Your post is at the gates is it not?”

 

“It is. We apprehended these intruders, and were bringing them to the Kings,” Natasha replied, not even skipping a beat. The guard frowned, peering to take a closer look at the prisoners she was leading. His eyes skimmed over Steve, Tony, Bruce with little interest, but finally came to rest on Thor. And his eyes flew wide,

 

“You _found_ them?” he asked, voice incredulous.

 

“They somewhat found us instead,” she said calmly, although Thor could see her fingers clench minutely, “They attempted to enter the Palace undetected and failed.” The Einherjar didn’t even bother to look at her, still fixated on Thor. Thor unfortunately met his eyes, and cringed as their gazes locked, glaring defiantly at the man. He looked awed, a disgusting look now Thor understood the full context to it.

 

“You two return to your positions,” the guard finally said, waving to Natasha and Clint with a dismissive gesture, “I will take them on to Odin.”

 

“We wish to be the ones to bring them,” Natasha cut in with a voice like silk coated steel. “Send someone else to cover our positions until we have finished.”

 

The Einherjar raised an eyebrow at that, shifting his weight and pinning Natasha with a look that was part suspicion, part condescension. Nearly all condescension. “You will do as I command,” he said slowly and deliberately, as if speaking to a child. “You will return to the gates, and I will be the one to take these prisoners to our Kings.”

 

There was a pregnant pause. Thor’s nails dug into his palm until he felt the skin break. Natasha took a deep breath, exhaling long and slow.

 

“Well,” she said finally. “I suppose there’s only one thing left to do.”

 

And with those words, lashed out to slam her fist into the guard’s face. Clint’s bow was drawn in an instant, an arrow shooting through the gaps between their heads to take out another guard before the fighting begun in earnest. Steve was the first free of his bonds, dashing straight into the fray, throwing punches and tripping another, careful to never deal anything fatal, only disarming them. The others were freeing themselves of their bonds too, and Thor found himself beside Natasha as he wriggled free of his own bonds.

 

“Are you ok?” Thor asked, pulling himself free and reaching behind him immediately to pull out two axes from under his cloak, “You just openly attacked your superior. There’s no going back or pretending now.”

 

“I wouldn’t worry,” Natasha told him, and Thor saw a twitch of a smile on her lips, “I’ve been waiting for a chance to punch him for quite some time.” Thor found his grin spread wide and silly on his face at those words, and it was with renewed vigour and determination to ignore the noise in his head in favour of cheerfully spinning his axe around to catch another guard in the chest. It was not strong enough to cut through to flesh, but it packed enough of a punch to make them stumble.

 

Tony meanwhile had slammed his foot down on the ground, and with a splutter he had shot up into the air, the repaired boots propelling him upwards above the guard’s heads as he short from side to side, in a frankly incredible display of blast fuel acrobatics and plasma blasts from the glove like addition he had donned this time around on his left wrist.

 

Loki weaved gracefully in and out of guards, entire body aglow as he both aided and attacked, covering their friends alongside Clint, who had found the most defensible position he could under the circumstances and was dedicating his attentions to protecting those in vulnerable positions. Thor let loose another axe, watching it slam into a guard’s back through his cloak. Thor hoped it wasn’t fatal; he didn’t really blame the guards for what they were doing. But the noise in his mind was growing stronger, like a persistent hum, distracting him from the task at hand.

 

Thor could feel the humming in his mind, through his veins, a painfully familiar sensation, like muscle memory that had not been use in a lifetime. Or even several lifetimes. His eyes scrunched shut, hand tightening around his axe, and suddenly, like a call from some heavens beyond Asgard, it came to him. Like a message from above Thor realised what the call belonged to, what the thrumming in his veins really was. His eyes closed in relief at the memory, and his arm extended out.

 

Moments later, Mjolnir smashed through the door, and into Thor’s grip as he spun it around, sending it on a collision course with a Jotun guard before hacking at another with the axe, hand re-extending to accept Mjolnir into his grip as if he had never abandoned it.

 

Natasha and Clint had noticed Thor’s possession of the hammer when it had shot past Clint’s face, narrowly missing him in order to smash into the guard before him, both their faces pictures of shock as they watched it return to his hand, Thor’s smile victorious. He was frozen to the spot however, as he spun around to face his next victim, and instead found himself face to face with Loki’s shocked face, his blood red eyes fixated on the hammer, his breathing suddenly too fast, too shallow.  Thor’s mouth opened, ready to speak, when suddenly an arrow was shooting past his head.

 

“Hey, focus would you?” Clint yelled in his direction, drawing his bow again to shoot down another guard. There was only a trickle of them left, and they were swiftly disposed of.

 

“We better hurry,” Steve spoke, effortlessly slipping into the position of leader without even consciously thinking about it, “they’ll be sending more Einherjar, so we need to find the girls now, whilst they’re still on their way.”

 

“Agreed,” Bruce said quickly, glancing nervously down the hallway before they started to make their way into the next corridor along. Thor was about to call out, to make them stop and wait whilst he checked Loki was alright, but before he could open his mouth Loki was suddenly beside him, looking all but completely composed once again.

 

“I’m fine,” Loki told him pre-emptively, clasping their hands together. Thor could feel the tremor running through his fingers, but Loki’s look dared him to say something about it. Thor frowned, clasped their hands tighter in a promise that they would talk about it later, and they followed after the others.

 

They soon ran into problems however, as Clint and Natasha directed them to all the most obvious places, to the dungeons first, then up to a number of empty rooms in the palace, half of which Thor couldn’t even fathom the function of. Sigyn and Angrboda were nowhere to be found.

 

“This is bad,” Loki muttered darkly as they stood in yet another bare room, “the whole palace must be looking for us by now, and we have no idea where they are!” he shot an accusing glare in the ex – Einherjars’ direction. Natasha sent an equally nasty look back.

 

“We only saw the other Einherjar arrive with the girls, not what they did with them,” she said with deceptive calm, a twitch at the corner of her lips, “if you’d prefer us to leave and abandon you completely to the mercy of Odin and Laufey, that can be arranged I assure you!”

 

“Hey, hey, calm down guys,” Steve warned, stepping between them with his hands reached out in a calming, peaceful gesture. “Look, I know this is a difficult situation and I know you’re stressed Loki, but Natasha and Clint are doing their best. You have to be patient. We will find them!”

 

“Not if we find our way back to the dungeons in shackles first!” Loki shot back, voice high and irritated. “It would take us far too long to search the entire palace ourselves, our only help from within the palace doesn’t know their location. Who is going to be able to lead us to where they are being kept?”

 

“I will take you,” came a sudden, new voice. Everyone’s heads shot towards the door, hands flying to weapons as they did so, aside from Bruce who, still without a weapon, ducked behind Tony.

 

Thor’s blood seemed to freeze in his veins at the sound of the voice, and as he turned to face it, he wondered if this was how Loki had felt every time he had recovered a memory, the terrible feeling of guilt at having ever forgotten; the heart wrenching sensation, and the utter out-of-place sensation of the ancient memory amongst the new. It was not the sudden rush of memories he hard on the bridge, not a tidal wave that left him gasping and disoriented, but a subtle creeping, that left him cold and fearful.

 

Standing in the doorway was a young woman dressed impeccably in blue and gold silk, gold wire twisted in her hair and coming forward to met in the middle of her forehead, a droplet gemstone dangling down. And now, finally, Thor understood why he hated the sight of it, the complete wrongness of the vision before him, dressed like a highborn lady.

 

“Lady Sif,” Natasha greeted, guarded, her grip on her twin guns not loosening. The others gripped their own weapons a little tighter too, although distress was written all over Steve and even Bruce’s face at the thought of having to fight such a delicately dressed woman.

 

Sif.

 

Forever loyal Sif, a natural born warrior that had been forced, compressed and misshapen into the form of a princess; a weak, timid thing only good for looking pretty and satisfying her king. How badly it suited her.

 

Loki’s face had twisted at the sight of her, the expression really quite ugly, and Thor wondered if he was simply seeing what he saw, the warrior caged, or if there was something else between them that was causing such a distressing expression. Sif’s eyes glanced around the assemble cast, and Thor saw them narrow as she returned Loki’s stare. Then their gazes finally broke and, at last, her gaze came to rest on Thor.

 

“Please follow me,” she spoke suddenly, surprising Thor slightly as the intensity of her gaze increased. “I will take you to Angrboda and Sigyn. You need to come quickly, more Einherjar will arrive soon.”

 

“Lady Sif, with all due respect, do you take us for idiots?” Natasha asked flatly. “You are...for lack of a better term…one of them. How can we possibly trust you?”

 

“Because I hate this,” Sif said immediately, and her gaze finally snapped away from Thor and onto Natasha, “I hate being here, I hate what they’ve tried to make me…what I’ve _let_ them _get away_ with making me. But I will not stand for it any longer. You will let me help.” She demanded. Natasha glanced over to Thor, shooting him a sharp look that he returned with a shrug, directing his own gaze to Loki. ‘ _I know you hate her,’_ he thought, gazing pleadingly at the Jotun, ‘ _but she has knowledge of the palace which we do not. Which even Natasha and Clint have not.’_

 

Loki’s returned look was decidedly icy and petulant, as his fists clenched and relaxed tensely. Thor continued with his pleading expression until Loki relented, “Fine,” he said sulkily, as if the decision was his and his alone. “You can help us. But betray us and I will take great pleasure in killing you myself,” he hissed at Sif, levelling her with a murderous gaze. Sif, to her credit, met it with a cool, level stare, holding his gaze. It was clear to everyone in the room at the two of them were never, under any circumstances, going to be friends. But, as Loki finally partially relaxed, and nodded curtly towards her, they all let out an unconscious sigh. At least it seemed like they could work together. With the tense agreement reached, Sif swept from the room, the others following her wordlessly as she led them onwards.


	16. Victims of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I’m thinking of a way  
>  That I can make an escape  
> It’s got me caught up in a web  
> And my heart’s the prey  
> Do you really want to throw your heart  
> Away, away, away?_
> 
> _You can change but you’ll always come back for more  
>  It’s a game and we’re all just victims of love_

“Oh by Jotunheim, _finally_. You won’t believe the time we’ve had, you insensitive arsehole. They tried to _civilise_ me, if you please, and then started discussing Sigyn and I’s _joint_ _marriage_ to you and, my _personal_ favourite, the _darling_ three children we’re going to have, those being a _giant snake_ , a _wolf_ , and the future ruler of hell. You owe us big time to compensate for this mess you’ve dragged us into, _Loki Son-of-no-one_.”

 

Loki took all of this, spoken in a low hiss by Angrboda, with a long-suffering expression on his face, which, once she had finished lecturing, he turned on Thor. The message was clear: _and remind me why I needed to save her?_ Thor was attempting to return it with a disapproving look at Loki’s completely un-chivalrous behaviour, but even he was struggling to maintain it in the face of Angrboda’s ascorbic nature and harsh words, even if they could be partly blamed on the stress of the situation. Loki resisted the urge to snort. He highly doubted stress had anything to do with it. Angrboda didn’t get stressed, she just became bitchier; it was a special skill of hers.

 

Despite that, the sight of the two girls he had grown up with unnerved Loki. Angrboda had been stripped of her typical colourful ensemble, patchwork clothes and red bandana nowhere to be seen. Instead she wore a long, simple white shift dress, and a simple silver band circling her head. Her hair was pulled back in a rushed do. Sigyn sat on the only piece of furniture in the room, a large luxurious looking bed, with her feet tucked up under her. She was dressed similarly to Angrboda, except her dress had a golden hue to it, and there were flowers in her hair along with the golden circlet.

 

Loki tried desperately not to remember seeing the two of them dressed like so before, and tried even more desperately not to compare the image of the two of them treated as such to Sif, who was stood just outside of the door. His previous father figure and blood mother had certainly developed some interesting means of subjugation.

 

“Yes, well, it’s hardly my-“ Loki began to respond, preparing to launch into a full verbal spar with Angrboda, when the situation suddenly chose to weigh heavily on his mind, causing all the words to die in his mouth. “Fine. You’re right. I’m…I’m sorry you ended up being dragged into this.” He spoke tiredly, and the stress was evident in his voice.

 

Angrboda’s mouth opened, ready to give back a snarky response, when the sincerity of Loki’s words hit her and she too was left speechless. Thor’s face tightened in concern, and in a few steps he had crossed the room and was gripping Loki’s hand in his own, the other coming up to cup the black and gold-inked neck gently, turning Loki’s face towards him.

 

“It is not your fault,” he murmured to him; thumb stroking over the line scored across Loki’s cheek. Loki’s skin darkened around his nose and cheeks, his eyes downcast as he leaned into the touch, hands scrambling to cling onto Thor’s clothing. “It’s going to be ok,” Thor continued to speak softly, gently, as he drew Loki closer, “We’re going to survive this. I know we are.”

 

Whilst Thor’s words and actions were having the desire effect on Loki, calming the Jotun and focusing him gently, the previous brothers were completely unaware of the awkward pressure their inappropriately intimate moment was having on the other occupants of the room. Angrboda’s wrinkled nose and half-scowl speaking volumes, Sigyn apparently deciding that gazing down at her lap studiously and pretending the scene wasn’t happening only metres away more appropriate response. Even Tony looked uncomfortable.

 

Steve was the one to break the silence, clearing his throat. “We should get out of here. We have the girls now, we need to get going before more Einherjar come.” This broke the spell, Sigyn sliding off the bed, the former princes pulling apart and everyone made their way to the door, Sif holding it open for them as they passed. Sigyn glanced at her curiously as she passed, recognition flashing for a split second in her yes before it faded completely, and the only thing Sif could read in her face was vague curiosity as to why the Lady Sif was assisting the escapees.

 

They poured into the hallway, Clint and Natasha taking the lead to direct them down the corridors. A couple of close encounters with sharp corners and Einherjar put them on edge, the group eventually breaking into a run, the girls hitching their skirts up past their knees for ease of movement, Angrboda cursing as she tripped over hers. As they continued to run through the twisting corridors, however, Clint and Natasha’s expressions turned to confusion, as they took turn after turn and it led only to more corridors. It was Sif who worked out what was happening first though, her eyes widening with realisation.

 

"Wait! This is wrong," Sif called out sharply as they ran down yet another identical hall, pulling everyone to a halt. "This corridor doesn't lead outside. It goes directly to the throne room," she continued, spinning around to try and work out where they were.

 

Loki also spun around, before striding over to the wall, pressing a hand to it. The golden runes glowed vibrantly on the back of his hand, a green glow emitting from the palm. Suddenly they could all see it, a blue, rippling effect coving every wall, even the ceiling and floor.

 

Steve frowned up at it, "...magic, I'm assuming?"

 

"Probably Balder's..." Bruce agreed absently, worriedly, moving closer to Tony. Tony hooked an arm around his shoulders comfortingly.

 

"Can you fix it?" He asked Loki, who was scowling at the wall, frowning. All the patterns across his skin were glowing now; eyes squeezed shut as he focused all his energy, causing blue and green to spark outwards explosively. Loki hissed, eyes flying open as he stepped back from the wall, flexing his fingers.

 

"It's too strong," he muttered, looking loath to admit it. "He's on his own turf. Whilst I had the advantage in the woods, he has the control here." Thor tugged Loki to his side, pressing a kiss to the corner of his frown.

 

"It seems we have no choice but to carry onwards," he said grimly, and the others nodded, the reluctance clear. They'd come so far; to be stopped at this hurdle seemed unthinkable. Even Clint and Natasha, who had only joined their party mere hours ago, seemed to share the feelings of fight and reluctance felt by the at the rest of the group. Steve moved forward to the head of the group, head high and as tall and proud as a leader should be. Thor, to his great surprise, felt great satisfaction in stepping back. This confrontation was all about him and Loki, yet Thor found the best confrontation seemed to lie in letting the Avengers lead. Let Odin see how much had changed, he thought grimly, and wondered when he had started to sound so much like the old Loki.

 

The group reached the doors, Steve’s fingers hesitant on the doors for a second, before Tony pressed a reassuring hand to his shoulder. With reassurance from his friend, Steve finally pushed the door open, and they stepped into the light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Debating posting the chapter after this too, since it's so short…hmm...


	17. Perfectly Imperfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Oh there never tell you what to do_  
>  When all you see is gone  
> What’s the sense in anything  
> If what they say is wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of the end.

"You survived then," was Odin's greeting as the rebellious party entered the throne room. He and Laufey sat side by side on their thrones, with Balder and Helblindi flanking them. Balder's hand was pressed firmly against the wall behind him, and his blue magic was now visible to all, rippling out, manipulating the structure of the palace. Thor’s eyes flickered around the room, trying to take in who was present. Guards, yes, a number of both æsir and Jotun. Only Helblindi was with Laufey, no sight of Býleistr. There was no sign of Frigga either.

 

"Not because of any change of heart," Loki hissed in response to Odin's statement, glaring stonily at his once-adoptive father. He pointedly didn't even spare Laufey or Helblindi a glance.

 

"That is a shame," Odin murmured, with no sign of sarcasm or mockery, "I was so hoping this could be resolved peacefully."

 

"Make no mistake, we will gladly jump again if you try to force out hand," Thor rumbled threateningly, his fist clenching around Mjolnir's handle, feeling the thrum of energy within it responding loyally to his touch. He could feel Odin’s gaze shift to him and the weapon in his grip, probably trying to understand the implications. Just what those implications were, not even Thor himself was sure of.

 

The doors slammed shut behind them in violent response to Thor’s statement, and Loki could seem Balder's eyes narrow, the blue glow remaining around his hands even as he pulled them away from the wall. Odin barely spared his second son a glance however, so fixated on Thor he was, pinning him with a look that tugged painfully at Thor's memories, threatening to unravel the threads of his life in order to restore his past one.

 

Loki was dealing with being faced with his so-called fathers much more easily. No number of memories would ever endear him to Odin, and he had no memories of Laufey as a mother figure to speak of. The Jotun King was staring at his with a steady, pensive gaze, and Loki made a point to ignore him. If Laufey had any intention of attempting to bond with his estranged son, he had another thing coming. Loki would see to that.

 

Meeting the giant King’s eyes, Loki could see Laufey’s realisation of this, his eyes closing as if pained, and a low release of breath escaping him. Loki couldn’t understand it, and found he didn’t want to. Any sympathy he may have had for Laufey vanished under a wave of scorn. He could not respect a person, mother or otherwise, who would so easily pretend that the one he was trying to reconcile with had not gladly murdered him not so many lifetimes ago.

 

_Sentiment_ , came the hiss from his past self. Far more repulsive than Thor’s had ever been. At least he had been a brother to Thor for many long centuries, long enough for genuine attachments to be formed. All he could glean from Laufey was the whimsical wishes of what-could-have-beens, and desire for a relationship that would never happen.

 

“No one wishes for you to jump,” Odin said finally, “no one but you in your misguided sense of hostility. We want nothing for you but what is _right_.” Loki’s face sunk into a disapproving scowl. He did not want to heave this again. And it seemed, to his glee, that he was not the only one, his would-be brother had a bored looks on his face; looking forward to ruling the nine realms, maybe. Enjoying the privileged life and the thrill of battle, maybe. But listening to Odin attempting to justify his mad schemes for the hundredth time? It must be getting old. Even Laufey and Balder, those who were most eager to see Odin’s plans carried out, looked weary. Loki knew none of this for certain of course, but he liked to tell himself that was the situation.

 

“Why would you even want me back?” Loki asked him, arms opening up into an inviting gesture. Just what he was inviting, he didn’t know. “Look at me, the sad remnants of a Jotun runt you found centuries ago, abandoned-“

 

He was cut off by a sudden and unexpected snarl from Laufey, the giant’s hand slamming down on the arm of his throne. “You were _not_ abandoned!” he snapped, staring down at Loki was heated red eyes, burning out of an ice cold, storm-worn face. Even in this life he had born so much weathering and strife, Loki realised, his stomach sinking. He didn’t want to feel sorry for Laufey. And he didn’t want to understand what Laufey was telling him. “Who told you that you were _abandoned_? Who dared to make you…to even let you believe that I-“ emotion cut off Laufey’s words, but everyone could hear the rest of them all the same. Could hear the meaning behind them. Loki couldn’t react. Was frozen still, his eyes fixed on Laufey as he tried to comprehend what he was hearing. That all those years ago, the events that had decided everything, that had brought Thor to Earth, had delivered Loki himself into madness and destruction, had brought about the Avengers, had brought them all _here_ …were lies.

 

The Allfather’s lies.

 

Loki’s gaze turned steely, with renewed loathing as he turned to Odin, “You _lied_ to me?” he seethed, hands curling into fists. Laufey had turned to look at Odin too, confusion obvious on his face. “ _Oh_ ,” Loki continued, his momentum building, “even your fellow _king_ was not aware? Why don’t you tell them? _Why don’t you tell them how you lied to me all those lifetimes ago, how my lives have been plagued with misery because of you?!”_ his voice had risen to a scream. Even the Avengers were looking at him with trepidation, everything ranging from a flicker of fear in Bruce’s eyes to wary calculation in Tony and Natasha.

 

“Loki, when I told you that, I did not know I was lying,” Odin was trying to repair his words, but Loki didn’t care, _he didn’t care_ if Odin had known he was wrong or thought he was right, _everything was his fault,_ it was _always. His. Fault._

 

Then, suddenly, a hand on his arm.

 

“Loki,” Thor said softly, and the rage dissipated as though it had never been there. “Please don’t do this,” Thor continued softly. Loki’s hadn’t didn’t unclench.

 

“Why?” Loki asked, equally soft, his tone hollow. “Do you care what happens to him?” he didn’t even turn to look at Odin, instead watching Thor closely, watching blue eyes that followed him with concern, with love.

 

“No,” Thor said, honestly. “I care about what you’ll end up doing to yourself like this. I care if you hurt yourself, if you blame yourself for things you cannot change, could never have even hoped to change. ” Thor moved to grip the back of Loki’s head, pulling him close so their foreheads were pulled together. Loki’s eyes drifted close as he took in Thor’s presence, all around him, bringing him back down to reality.

 

“Thank you,” he whispered, gripping Thor’s arm gently, before turning back to face Odin. New determination was in red eyes, and he meet Odin’s cool gaze head on.

 

“I am a lost creature,” Loki told him, voice steady. “That is what you have made me, where through design or by fault. I might have been lost, I might have been abandoned I might…I might have been _stolen_. It does not matter now. I am not your child,” he told Laufey, perhaps more gently than he had expected himself to, “and I will never, _ever_ be your child again, nor will I ever allow you forgiveness or the chance to make things right.” He spat at Odin. “You do not want me back. Not as I am, not as I was.”

 

“Do not speak to him that way!” Balder suddenly interrupted, stepping forward to glare at Loki, “he has done what he believes to be right, as he has always done! Yu have no right to judge him! He is King and you,” a haughty look, one of utter superiority spread across Balder’s face, “are nothing more than a half breed Jotun with dreams of being a prince.”

 

Loki did not, as the others might have expected after seeing him explode before, become angry. His expression barely changed as he watched Balder with an almost clinical stare.

 

“You do not want me,” he finally spoke, and it was as if he had not even heard Balder speak, “but you still want Thor. He is what you have always wanted more than anything. The Golden Son, come home to inherit his kingdom. Although…” Loki let out a little sigh, and Thor’s eyes picked up on the tiny twitch at the corner of his lips. _Uh oh…_ “I can see, of course, why you would fight so desperately to have _Thor_ back, more than anyone else. It must be rather vexing to have to rely so on your poor little man-child as the only feasible option for the successor to the throne.” His eyes turned back to Balder, red meeting blue explosively as Balder’s face contorted into anger, his mouth opening to respond-

 

“Well. Minus the man, at any rate,” Loki sneered, and Thor could see the exact moment the penny dropped and tipped Balder over the edge and into uncontrolled rage.

 

Balder’s hand snapped up and aimed towards, Loki, his expression furious, but he was suddenly and rather anticlimactically slammed aside as Loki’s hand shot out in a sweeping motion, knocking the silver prince aside and hard enough into the wall to leave a crater. And, with a mischievous and feral grin, Loki echoed the word that had, in reality, probably been the signal for the start of the entire cycle.

 

“Next?”

 

That was apparently the cue to fight, as Helblindi leapt forward with a roar. He was joined by a couple of Einherjar, and even Laufey and Odin rose from their thrones, Gugnir clasped tightly in Odin’s hand, and a spear swiftly crystallising in Laufey’s grip. With so many Jotun’s fighting Thor could feel the temperature swiftly dropping, and his eyes darted around to see what each of his companions was doing, even as he himself launched into fighting, sending an axe flying into a Jotun’s shoulder. Natasha had apparently decided to aim high, darting in and out of Helblindi’s limbs, slashing at him with short blades. Thor frowned as he noticed the missing Clint, but his confusion was quickly resolved as an arrow shot seemingly out of nowhere to pierce Helblindi’s shoulder. Of course, the archer would wish to get himself to a vantage point.

 

Thor was distracted momentarily by two Æsir who had come up either side of him, and he spun and ducked to the side, cracking Mjolnir against the back on one’s knees. Tony had also shot into the air at the first opportunity he noticed, and was apparently having a lot of fun attacking people from above, pelting and grabbing at them as much as he could, and generally being a nuisance, as Thor’s second opponent was shot from behind with a blast of light from the mechanic.

 

Upon another glance around the chaotic room, Thor couldn’t see Bruce at first, but eventually spotted him back to back with Steve, clutching what appeared to be one of Natasha’s guns, although he seemed more than a little ill at ease with it. So much that as an Einherjar approached the Midgardian, spear raised, Thor threw Mjolnir fast and hard, knocking the guard away before he recalled the hammer. Bruce looked over to him, and offered a panicky smile, which Thor tried to respond to before he dived back into the fight. He was relying on Mjolnir more and more he realised, and suddenly felt a little sick at the thought. He wanted to be using his axes more, he really did, but they were best suited for throwing, and he had to go and collect them, whereas Mjolnir came hurtling straight back to him. He tried to ignore the unpleasant feelings, and ran across the room to collect one of the axes, refusing to let himself become completely dependent.

 

Retrieving his axe, only to lodge it in another shoulder as he bent back up, Thor realised he had found himself beside Angrboda. Even she was joining in the fight,  as Thor saw her deliver a swift kick to the privates of an Æsir guard who made the mistake of coming too close, prying his weapon from his fingers with vicious glee. To Thor's surprise, rather tossing it to Sif before tackling another guard to the ground to procure herself a weapon also.

 

Sif, with the spear in hand, was transformed directly before Thor's eyes. Her posture straightened, the grip on the spear changed with well practised ease, and it was with a hearty battle cry that the finest Æsir warrior Thor had had the privilege to fight alongside launched herself into the fray, the silk of her dress tearing immediately. Thor grinned widely at the sight, before a sudden tap on his arm, Loki's head ducking just out of the corner of his vision, alerted him to the much bigger problems he had than Einherjar and second sons.

 

The Kings had entered the battle, and even in Odin’s old age and Laufey’s battle weary body, they still moved through the crowds easily, batting aside all who came near them. Laufey knocked Tony from the sky the second the mechanic came within range; Tony didn’t even have a change to fire a weapon. “Odin took down Steve and Angrboda in quick succession, Sif having the sense to back away from the King before she could fall into his path next. There was a sickening moment where it looked as though all would fall still and they would be forced under scrutiny, but Angrboda launched herself at a guard that was still standing, and the fighting broke out in earnest once again. Tony brought himself to his feet, discarding the boots once again, damaged by Laufey as they were, but set off many blasts with the repulsors in his palms. Although the fighting continued, it was clear that an arena of sorts had been set; no one attacked Loki, Thor, or the Kings. This was it.

 

Loki cautiously split away from Thor’s side, and Laufey followed his movements, until his stood opposite the runt. Thor tried not to miss the feeling of Loki by his side, and instead focused all his attention on Odin. The King’s expression was still one that brought out all the worst feelings in Thor, and he grit his teeth, grip tightening on the hammer in his hand.

 

“Don’t you dare speak,” Thor told Odin, bringing Mjolnir around in a wide sweep to block Odin’s thrust with Gugnir, “I don’t not want to hear another word out of your mouth. You, who have hurt so many people, and refuse to accept the blame, do not deserve to hold the title of King!” Thor roared, pushing forward until Odin stumbled back.

 

“I do not deserve to be King?” Odin hissed, chest heaving with fatigue. The weary King, always moments from Odinsleep. Thor wondered what would happen if he simply never woke up again, and suddenly hated himself for even thinking in that way. “Why,” Odin continued, lips curling into a wry grin, ”do you think you would be better suited to it than me? Would you take on the throne as you would always meant to?”

 

Thor’s grip tightened on Mjolnir, his teeth gritting. “I thought,” he began, darkly, spinning Mjolnir around in his grip, “I told you not to speak?!” He threw himself towards the King, smashing against his chest with Mjolnir, sending him reeling backwards. _This was the end_ , he promised himself, drawing back ready for another attack, _everything ended here, for better or worse. And he absolutely refused to lose to Odin_.

 

~

 

“I do not know what to say to you,” Loki said numbly, tracing around an empty circle, Laufey directly opposite him, their movements in tandem. “Not as a stranger, let alone as family.”

 

“It is not your fault that you do not know how to call me mother,” Laufey cut to the heart of the matter, and Loki swallowed, his fists loosening and tightening as he tried to reign in his emotions. Dealing with Odin had been easy. He had never liked him, and he never would. His hatred for the other king had only increased in the last few moments. But as it had increased for Odin, it had unexpectedly and suddenly dropped for Laufey. He had known nothing but the evil Jotun King before, and had being able to delude himself with such an image. But then Laufey had cried out for him, had responded so vehemently to Loki’s words, as though the mere thought of him abandoning Loki, the slightest chance of him ever not wanting Loki was enough to warrant death at his hand, had to be wiped from reality, had to be denied so strongly and so repeatedly until no one could deny the truth.

 

_Loki had been wanted._

_Laufey had wanted him._

_Odin had stolen everything from him._

 

“I am son of no one,” Loki said blankly, the words not even bringing him the usual sensations of independence and freedom. He had thought having no parents meant having no legacy. No need to impress, no standards to live up to. Now, for the first time he wondered. Could he have ever worn the name Laufeyjarson with pride? He would never know. He could never know at this point. Odin had said it himself; their threads had drifted too far. The Kings could force-feed them apples, parade them before the nine realms, they could lie, and lie, and lie – but they would never be Odinson or Laufeyjarson by blood ever again. “I am no longer your child,” Loki continued, and saw only regret in Laufey’s gaze, “and I cannot be again. Why do you continue to fight to win me?” he asked. “Why do you continue to fight by _his_ side, even though you know him to be the reason we never even had the chance to know each other as family?” Loki asked, eyes wide in confusion. Laufey’s gaze dropped, his feelings indecipherable,

 

“I want answers for what he did, what he said to you and why,” he admitted, gaze finally raising again. “But it is through his plans alone that I will ever have the chance to find my family again. You will never be mine by blood but that will never stop me wishing I had not lost you all those lives ago. How can I stop now, after we have come so far?” and with that, he lunged. Loki shot to the side, falling into a roll that brought him beside Thor’s fight with Odin, and as Loki rose, he found himself in a moment of slowed time, meeting gazes with Odin. Odin’s singly blue eye opened wide, and Loki couldn’t bring himself to react. Until suddenly a solid punch from Thor rammed into the side of Odin’s face, and Loki’s hand shot out at a glimmer of gold. His fingers closed around something cool and metallic, and he pulled hard, spinning around to bring Laufey, who had advanced for another blow, crashing to his knees. Thor’s actions, now behind him were a mystery, and Loki acted only on instinct as he brought the stolen item from Odin down on the one he would never call mother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahahahahahthisisaweeklatei'msosorry.


	18. What Doesn't Kill You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Think you left me broken down  
>  _Think that I'd come running back  
>  _Baby you don't know me, cause you're dead wrong__
> 
> ___What doesn't kill you makes a fighter  
>  _Footsteps even lighter  
>  _Doesn't mean I'm over 'cause you're gone___ _ _
> 
> ______What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, stronger  
>  _Just me, myself and I__ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this is so late. Time completely ran away from me.

All was suddenly silent, as they realised what had occurred. Balder pushed himself up from the floor, not even noticing the dishevelled silver hair falling into his face as what was happening, _really_ _happening_ in front of him, sunk in. Odin, sunken to the floor, Laufey also floored behind him, and their once-sons stood above them. Loki had, as far as the bystanders could see apparently no qualms about humiliating Laufey as far as he could, and actually had his booted foot pressed hard against the King’s chest to keep him down, and, Thor couldn’t recall just how and when Loki had got his hands on it, Gugnir pressed against his throat. Thor also had no idea just what the relevance was, but there was an image pricking at the back of his mind of Loki having held Gugnir like so before. His suspicions were confirmed by the near-horrified look on Laufey’s face, and the faint trembling in Loki’s arms.

 

All this faded into the background a little however as, beyond the faint shivers ravelling up and down the trickster’s arms that made him want to hug Loki, Thor was entirely caught up with staring at the long tangle of black hair. The gold beads glittered throughout it, matching the shine of golden runes, and highlighted by the black lines twisting amongst them to sharpen his features. A light sheen had spread across Loki’s face and his heaving chest. Thor’s face was starting to spread into a silly grin when Loki was suddenly meeting his eyes. ‘ _You’re doing this right now? Really?’_ his gaze seemed to say and Thor pouted.

 

‘ _Sorry dear,_ ’ he communicated back, Loki apparently receiving the message with a faint roll of red eyes.

 

Although really, Loki did have a point. Seeing as he was in no less of a precarious position than Loki, poised over Odin with an axe precariously close to his throat. Thor’s eyes narrowed, smile dropping as the seriousness of the situation settled over him once again.

 

“So, Thor,” came Odin’s gasp from beneath him, “is this it? Do you plan to finish me now, and become king?” Thor’s eyes narrowed further, brow wrinkling as he took in the glint of Odin’s eyes, the almost fevered look that made Thor wonder if really, after all of this, death was what Odin had always expected and hoped for from Thor.

 

“No,” Thor croaked out in return, wishing his voice wasn’t so hoarse after the fighting. “I do not wish to kill you, Odin Allfather. I do not want your throne, but neither do I wish for you to remain sat upon it. Things must change,” he continued, his voice growing stronger as he looked up, and suddenly found himself addressing the entire room. “It is impossible, it is _damaging_ , to try and remain so in the past, to refuse for things to move forward as they should. Change is not always easy, and…at the time…it my not always seem good. I have lived many lives, as have many others here, and I…I know that in every life their was much tragedy and despair. Yet, if that was what was necessary to bring me here, along with the people I hold dear…” his eyes moved over the faces of the once-Avengers, to Sif, Balder, the son of Laufey…and finally settling on Loki, who stared back with a steady gaze, “I truly believe that everything that happened was worth it. I have no regrets.”

 

There was silence after Thor’s speech but somehow, it was a calm, accepting silence. Thor had been fearful of awkwardness and even mockery, but his words, as they had so often failed to do in the past, had finally had the desired effect. Both Kings and their sons had been shackled and led away, not without Balder sending Thor a look he found himself unable to decipher before the beautiful one had exited the room. A hand on his shoulder pulled his gaze away, and he looked down to see Natasha.

 

“We’re heading to the healers,” she informed him, “you should come with us. Even if you have no obvious injuries, it can’t hurt to check.” Her tone was brisk and business-like, but Thor allowed himself the indulgence of believing there was an edge of friendliness to it. That the Black Widow had once again allowed them into her circle of trust, as hard fought a place within it was.

 

“Of course,” he agreed, and couldn’t hold back his own pleased grin. It was odd to move through the palace so freely now, passing guards and not having to bring out their weapons, making their way to the healer’s chambers where a few swift words with the women there had them being bustled along to beds and examining tables to be checked over.

 

“What do you think will happen next?” Clint called out above the general noise and bustle, as a healer dealt with a gash on his leg. “I mean, we just overthrew an entire regime. In a single afternoon. Where do we go from here? What happens to the rest of the Realms?”

 

“It’s likely none of them will find out,” Bruce replied, softly, and several heads turned to give him surprised looks for speaking up.

 

“Oh yeah? How’d you figure that one out?” Tony asked, a single eyebrow making its way towards his hairline.

 

“Well. Asgard is already a very private realm, isn’t it?” Bruce pointed out, fiddling with his glasses until his hands were pulled away in order to have an ointment spread across bruised fingers, “Depending on what happens next…most importantly who takes the throne, what happens to Laufey and Odin…none of what’s happened today necessarily has to travel outside of the Palace walls.” He shrugged. “I don’t intend to tell anyone. I intend to get on with life as it was.” He looked up, gaze travelling over their faces. “What about you?”

 

There was silence for a moment, before Steve spoke up, “I’m not going to tell anyone. I don’t need the attention from something like this,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. Tony nodded in silent agreement. Natasha shrugged, and Angrboda snorted.

 

“I’m in agreement with the blondie over there. Who needs the attention? I just want to get out of here and go home.” She tried to slide off the desk where she had sat herself, and her dress caught in the process. She cursed, ripping it free, before abruptly starting to shift the dress over her head.

 

There was a moment of stunned silence in the room as all eyes followed her motions, before a shuffle broke out as exactly what she was doing registered in their minds and there was a sudden scramble as shirts were removed and offered in her direction by Steve, Bruce and Thor. Sif watched on, openly amused, and Natasha rolled her eyes. Sigyn had hidden her face in embarrassment on behalf of her shameless companion. Taking her sweet time to decide, Angrboda eventually plucked Steve’s shirt out of his hands, slipping it over her head. “Many thanks,” she said, tone amused.

 

Still bright red, but able to turn back towards her, Steve ducked his head. “No thanks needed.” He mumbled. Tony grinned, stepping over to Steve and clapping a hand on his arm. Steve flinched at the contact, but relaxed quickly.

 

“Look at the valiant hero,” Tony was cooing at him, obviously finding the whole situation hilarious. “Always stepping up to lend a hand. Or a shirt.” He stepped back, taking in the entirety of Steve’s bare chest, his grin widening. “Thinking about it, let’s hope more girls strip in front of you soon. Maybe you’ll take your shirt off more often. How have I not seen this before? We live together, and I haven’t seen you shirtless before. That is _criminal_. Don’t you think Bruce? He should definitely forget the shirt more often.” Steve was cherry red, and Bruce not far behind. Thor laughed despite himself, sliding his own shirt back on.

 

The tension was slowly sliding away, and he finally felt the weigh of months lifting from his shoulders. He and Loki was finally free from the threat of capture. No more Einherjar, no more hiding…Thor looked over to Loki, a smile on his face as he prepared to share this with Loki, when he saw Loki sat with his legs curled up to his chest, staring into space. He looked a million miles away, and Thor was unsettled by the minute flickering in his eyes, as if scanning a thousand and one images, none of which made up the room he was in, or the people he shared it with.

 

A flutter of panic welled up in Thor’s chest and he slid from his own seat to approach Loki. No one paid any attention to them, too busy still conversing amongst themselves. Thor slid himself beside Loki, pressing his fingers gently to a swirl of gold on his forearm. Loki jolted slightly, turning to look at Thor with startled eyes, relaxing only slightly when he realised who was there.  Thor’s fingers shifted and he traced the gold pattern downwards, fingers coming to rest over Loki’s pulse. Thor realised with a frown that it was racing beneath his fingers. He pressed down slightly, and head Loki make a breathless noise, blue fingers curling into an almost-fist.

 

“Loki…?” Thor asked softly, looking up to meet red eyes, “Loki, what’s wrong?”

 

The rest of the room still hadn’t noticed them, except for Angrboda, whose eyes had locked onto the scene, although her gaze was discreet, and she remained silent. Loki too remained silent, and was staring at Thor, peering into his face as if searching for something.

 

“I…I feel as though I do not know you,” Loki finally said, mumbled, the words dead on his tongue. Thor could feel his insides constricting, but he swallowed shakily, and tried to stay calm.

 

“Loki…”

 

“And then, I feel like I know you far too much,” Loki continued on, as if Thor hadn’t spoken. “How can I feel both are true Thor?” His hand lifted, achingly slowly to press a fingertip to Thor’s cheek, the others slowly joining it until it was almost a caress. “I feel like I barely even know myself,” he confessed, his voice no more than a whisper, shaky with the tensions that strung his body together.

 

“You’re Loki,” Thor told him, his hands coming up to cup blue cheeks, tracing over gold lines as they were wont to do. “You’re Loki, I’m Thor. We’re finally _safe_. You don’t have to be scared, or- or stressed…” his hand slipped down. He wasn’t even full conscious of it’s path as it slid down to the column of Loki’s throat and settled at the base of Loki’s neck, fingers tangling in the hair there. Suddenly Thor was lost to the world, and couldn’t feel Loki’s quaver beneath his touch as he gripped tighter, thumb brushing back until at just touched Loki’s cheek.

 

Just like muscle memory.

 

Just like bef-

 

The reaction was immediate and explosive. Loki’s whole face changed, expression tightening instantly, pupils constricting to pinpoints as he slapped Thor’s hand away harshly, Thor’s mouth dropping open as for the first time since they had met he felt the burning cold that came with a distrustful Jotun’s touch. Ice crystal bloomed and cracked on his arm, making him cry out in pain. Loki’s hand immediately recoiled from the damage they had caused, although the regret only lasted for a fraction of a second on his face before horror overtook it again, and Loki was scrabbling at his neck, nails scraping against the skin as if to destroy the sensation of Thor touching it.

 

“Loki…” Thor asked softly, too softly. He didn’t know what had happened, but he knew it was serious. It was something be could feel, really feel, deep in his bones, and it filled him with dread. “Loki, what’s wrong?”

 

Loki stared at him, and his expression read a thousand more expressions that even the silver-tongued man could put into words. “No…” Loki mumbled, and it was with such anguish that Thor could barely stand to listen. “No I’m not alright. I…I can’t _do_ this, Thor!” his words were coming out as gasps now, as he clutched at his hair, threatening to pull it out by the roots. “You look- you look too much like him. Like the other Thor- the _first_ Thor. I thought I could cope with it, but then you went and summoned Mjolnir…you held my neck like that…I can’t deal with this.” Loki raised his face, and Thor was shocked to see already crystallised tears stuck to it, more gathering at the corners of his eyes. “At least…at least not now,” Loki continued, his voice wavering as he abruptly pushed past Thor, grabbing his hooded cloak from where it had been discarded upon them entering the healing chambers and wrapping it securely around his shoulders. “Maybe…maybe with time…I’ll be able to-“

 

This time it was Thor who grabbed Loki, spinning him around and crushing their lips together in desperation, in a seeking, passionate kiss that Loki couldn’t help but respond to, raising his arms to tangle long fingers in blonde hair, tugging the tanned face forward. Thor could feel the shaking in Loki’s hands once again, and tears running fresh down the trickster’s face. And the hands that had just been in his hair were suddenly pushing on his chest, forcing them apart. Then, just like all that time ago in the forest, Loki fled.

 

Only this time he didn’t pull Thor along with him.

 

Angrboda was the first to speak. Everyone’s attention had been on the former gods the second Loki had slapped Thor, but there was a shared state of shock as they looked at the door which Loki had fled through.

 

“That fucking _idiot_ ,” she swore through her teeth, gaze immediately darting over to Thor. Sigyn’s face was a mask of worry, and she moved towards the door, reacting faster than the others. Sif ignored where Loki had disappeared completely, making her way swiftly over to Thor, putting her hands on his arm.

 

“Thor,” she said, slowly, infuriatingly calm and reasonable, “Thor don’t do anything rash. You need to…that is, Loki is…”

 

“I need to go after him! Let me go!” was the first coherent sentence to form in Thor’s head, bypassing any filters he may have had and escaping from his lips as he shoved forward, attempting to push past Sif. She was not to be so easily passed however, and the gentle touch on his arm turned into a vice-like grip, restraining him and stopping him from moving. He turned to face her, his back to the door, a snarl on his lips. She was not to be dissuaded however, and she met his gaze steadily.

 

“Don’t do this Thor,” she told him firmly, and it was only the sound of another voice, a new voice, that was able to silence his next angry words and drain the anger from him.

 

“You have to let him go.” Thor spun around at the sound of the voice. It was no one he had yet heard in this life but it echoed across his mind, bringing with it love and warmth that he had also never known is this life. In the doorway where Loki had ran through stood Frigga. The Allmother. The Queen.

 

His once-mother.

 

Thor was tempted to ignore her. She was not his mother now, her love was a thing of his past and his love for Loki was here, now, he could catch up to him if he ran-

 

But something deep inside his heart made him stop. He didn’t want to be the one to trap Loki or to force him down. No matter the angry pain that was building in his chest, he realised he did not want to trap Loki, to bind Loki do him. For a moment, he wanted to blame his inability to follow not on the reasoning he knew to be right, but on Frigga. She was standing in the doorway blocking his path, she had allowed Loki to leave. But the expression on Frigga’s face stopped those thought before they had even fully formed. It was a world-weary expression, full of sadness and spent love and hope for the Jotun she had failed to stop from fleeing, whom Thor knew she had once called son.

 

Frigga saw the realisation in his eyes and, ignoring the gazes of the other occupants in the room, extended a hand towards Thor. She gestured with the other out to the hallway. “Walk with me, Thor.” He did so, to his won surprise, quietly and without protest. After the fire of his last desperate kisses, and his determination to make Loki stay, a strange kind of numbness had washed over him, masquerading as calm.  He followed behind the Queen, meekly, his injured arm hanging limply by his side.

 

Eventually, they reached what he assumed must be her private chambers, elegant but simple rooms. The centrepiece of the main room was a bed that, whilst large by normal standards, was not meant for two people. Thor’s mind felt too numb to read into that too much, as Frigga set him down gently on it, disappearing for a moment only to return with a basin of water. She had a cloth too, which she dipped in to the water slowly, and drew across his hand. Thor hissed quietly as the motion suddenly brought the pain back, but a tingling sensation followed and Thor could see the faint glow of her magic as she healed him.

 

He was focused on his hand, but a sensation alerted him to Frigga’s eyes trained on him, and as she finished wiping at the wound, leaving it far reduced from what it had been before, he looked up to meet it. There was a peculiar expression on her face, and he tensed on the edge of the bed, ready to run if need be.

 

“Let me hold you?” she finally asked, quietly, and Thor’s response caught in his throat as he processed the unexpected question. Frigga smiled at him, a tired, worn smile. “Indulge an old mother’s wishes?” came the soft continuation, and Thor’s fist clenched, the tension not leaving his body.

 

“That’s not fair,” he replied, his tone hard. Frigga was not offended, but simply inclined her head.

 

“No, it’s not. It’s not fair. I’m doing just what Odin tried to do. However, I think,” something shifted in her voice, and Thor could suddenly see just why she was the Queen of a thousand year long reign, “I think I have waited long enough to be a little selfish. And you have suffered today. More than today, for a long time now. I want to offer the comfort I never provided in the past.” She was right. Even without the soft “please” that came next, Thor had already shifted, moving into her open arms and breathing in the soft scent that brushed against his senses and his memories. Unlike the memories that Odin provoked, Frigga seemed to envelop him in such an atmosphere of love, drawing forth nothing but happy, content memories.

 

“I do not think Odin was right,” Frigga told him quietly, her fingers stroking against his hair. “But I do believe he had good intentions. He always does. Maybe I’m biased, because I have so dearly missed you, Thor. You and Loki both.” She pulled away from him, rubbing her thumb against the tears Thor hadn’t realised had leaked from his eyes. “I would give anything to be your mother again.” She confessed to him, softly, quietly, and it broke his heart to hear it. He realised, suddenly, that contrary to what he had thought just moments ago it would be oh so easy to accept her as his mother. He had no parents. He never had, and there were no recent memories for her to compete against. If he allowed his eyes to slip shut, he could imagine himself pressed against her comfortingly again and again, her hand stroking down his hair, providing him with that motherly love he had never known but has always craved.

 

So, _so_ easy.

 

But he couldn’t, he realised, painfully. His words so simple but so accurate returned. It wouldn’t be fair, and both of them knew that. Frigga didn’t want a pretend son, and Thor didn’t want a pretend mother. Frigga deserved better, especially for being brave enough to let him go completely rather than to try and force him to match the man she remembered.

 

It wasn’t fair on either of them.

 

Thor’s eyes rose to meet hers and, he suddenly saw it in them. She knew. Everything he had thought, she _knew._ Tears pricked at his eyes again, and without thinking he had thrown himself back into her arms, and was crying. Crying for everything he’d lost, and for everything he’d never had. Crying for his absent parents, for Frigga, for his friends.

 

For Loki.

 

Always, and endlessly for Loki.

 

Frigga held him tight, tears slipping out of her own eyes.  They were not mother and son, and never could be. But that did not mean they could never be friends, or that they could not give each other comfort, two living being sharing warmth and tears, and remembering all that they’d lost and found, and learned to let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't kill me.


	19. Always Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _And I was there when three months later  
>  _You were standing in the door all beat and tired  
>  _And I stepped aside.___

Two years passed, in many ways, far too quickly. Odin and Laufey still lived, but had stepped down from power. They made the occasional public appearance but, for the most part, but had moved to a separate apartment in the palace, to which Frigga had not followed her husband. Thor has looked at her in slight surprise at this revelation but had not asked any questions.

 

All power had, in turn, been handed over to Helblindi and Balder. Balder had subtly sought out Thor, surprising the blonde intensely when the silver prince slunk out of nowhere to talk to him.  Balder had not beat about the bush, and had simply and quietly asked if he wanted the throne.

 

“Odin set it up so that the throne would always pass to you, were you ever found,” he said quietly. “He never intended for me to be King.” There was no resentment in his voice, only a subtle resignation. Odin had clearly never left Balder with any doubt as to his position in the hierarchy of both Odin’s lineage and his heart.

 

Thor had honestly told him that ruling the nine realms was the last thing that he wanted, and Balder's lips had quirked upwards, _unsurprised_ , Thor thought, but also calculated.

 

"You really aren't the brother you once were," he had said simply, before walking away without a goodbye. Thor wasn’t sure goodbye was something that was needed between them. He was fairly certain this wasn’t the last he’d see of Balder.

 

Thor had pondered on the silver-haired man’s words; in a way he would have liked to be a brother to Balder. He seemed nice enough, but mislead perhaps. His upbringing certainly couldn’t have helped, leading Balder to house an innate arrogance and led to the occasional bout of childishness he couldn't fully shake off. Thor had frowned at his own thoughts, the description persistently familiar, and suddenly it clicked; that was probably exactly why Balder didn't consider Thor to be his brother. He was not a prince; he was not even Asgardian, most likely. But most importantly, even if he was, he had not been raised in a palace, as a prince or otherwise. He was an axe-wielding hunter from Midgard. How could he be Balder’s brother?

 

He had however, kept Mjolnir. No one had protested; Tony has asked when they were leaving if he was supposed to be returning the oversized hammer, and Thor’s face had tensed, his grip on the hammer tightening. It was a sickening feeling, and he wanted nothing more than to let it drop to the floor, to land heavily enough to leave a dent, and to be able to walk away and not give it another thought. It was not that simple. The hammer came with him, and Thor tried not to think about what Odin would have thought upon hearing that he had done so. He tried to avoid thinking about Odin altogether.

 

Loki would have probably cried at Thor’s attachment. He had certainly seemed close enough to tears when he’d seen Thor using the gods – forsaken hammer.  There were a lot of things that would have made Loki cry. Then again there were also a lot of blunders Thor had made over the last two years that he would have laughed at too. And maybe, somewhere in the nine realms, he was laughing. But if he was, Thor hadn't seen or heard a thing.

 

It was understandable really, that Loki would need to distance himself. Thor could understand that at least objectively after their confrontation. Thor was blessed in recovering only a very few memories and most of those of the Avengers; he was able to reconcile himself with them quickly, with minimum pain and trouble. But Loki had remembered hundreds of lifetime's worth of death and love and it had been killing him inside, never being sure what was real or memory, current or ancient. Thor wondered now if Loki had looked at him and dreaded the thought of calling him 'brother', of the term slipping out unbidden and unwanted, or of beginning to hate his own skin, and to long for milky white limbs and grass green eyes.

 

In terms of missing Loki, a single year had dragged by like it was a thousand. Twelve months, fifty-two weeks, three hundred and fifty four days, eight thousand seven hundred and sixty three hours, on and on time dragged until Thor felt he would go crazy.

 

The others respected his loss. He had a room at Tony, Steve and Bruce's joint home, and even Angrboda would set up a mattress for him if he turned up at hers suddenly, unannounced, and would stay silent until his words tumbled out in a torrent.

 

He missed Loki.

 

He needed Loki.

 

He didn't think he could last without Loki.

 

Angrboda would sit with him, eyes closed, silent as she allowed him to pour out everything inside him, all the things he couldn't say to anyone else. She'd listen, and then she'd serve him a spiked drink so the next thing he knew was that he was waking up to a pounding headache and Sigyn apologising to him and offering breakfast. Such was her awkward, messy method of comfort.

 

It did get easier though. Soon the visits to Angrboda and Sigyn stopped, and he settled into the routine of living with the other guys, hunting during the day to bring back dinner and earn his place, no matter how much the other said he didn't need to. Clint and Natasha came to visit sometimes from the palace, and those days were the days it was easiest to forget, everyone descending into playful bickering and squabbles over food and entertainment, uproarious laughter and inappropriate jokes.

 

Even Sif had turned up one evening, dressed in leggings, boots and a tunic, hair scraped back into a ponytail and looking happier than Thor had ever seen her in his life. They too had talked about Loki together, Sif asking him to thank Loki on her behalf when they met again. For what, Thor didn't find out. He was too busy being touched by the warrior girl's very deliberate use of the word when. He'd had too much of ‘ifs’ and ‘maybes’. Sif at least, had understood that in a way he wasn't sure anyone else had done yet. Then again, she remembered their lives from before. She knew better than any of the reborn avengers, better than Angrboda and Sigyn, maybe even better than Odin and Laufey what Loki and Thor meant to each other.

 

The second year was much easier. He still missed Loki of course but now he was certain of his return. And Thor could be patient, no matter what anyone else thought.  Thor eventually moved out of Tony, Steve and Bruce's home. He had been planning to do so for a while, but his plans were suddenly accelerated when he finally started to notice the way both Steve and Bruce looked at the armour-enhanced genius of the household. Tony may have had been even more oblivious than Thor had ever been when it came to such matters, but Thor refused to get in the way, or in the firing line, equally, of whatever was developing the second he realised it was there.

 

He was just setting into his own home, therefore, chosen with a hopeful second bedroom adjoining his own chosen room when the knock had come at the door. It had taken him a few moments to answer, being busy sorting the small number of rooms in the house before reaching the door. He expects it to be someone like Steve, or maybe Sigyn, the resident housewives of his collection of friends, bearing good tidings or perhaps some form of housewarming gift. Perhaps even Sif, skiving her new duties as a royal bodyguard in favour of helping him sort his few belongings into his new home.

 

So when he was instead met with the sight of royal blue skin, red eyes fixed on the ground and an embarrassed scowl dancing around the mouth, standing on his doorstep, Thor was stunned. But as Loki's suspiciously shiny eyes rose to meet his, brushing back his tangle of hair to inadvertently reveal more of his beautiful, gilded face, Thor smiled, and held the door open.

 

"Well, you certainly took your time," he murmured, as the slender figure slid past him, embracing him from behind as the door closed behind them. Thor twisted around in the tight grasp to wrap his own arms around the Jotun, pulling him as close as was physically possible. He breathed in the clear, refreshing scent from long black hair and finally felt the emptiness in his soul fill.

 

"Welcome home, Loki."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end. Thanks for sticking with me through my longest multichapter fic to date. ^^
> 
> You're all stars. <3


End file.
